Acolyte of Chucky
by mr.steamer96
Summary: Something has been watching Osborne Wilkes. It knows who he really is, 'The Acolyte of Damballa', capable of many horrific things including the possibility of massacring all that is alive. Ozzy is clueless on what he is, yet he can't run or hide from it. His greatest chance of living to see the next day lies with Chucky and his family, but are their intentions sinister?
1. Prologue

**AN: It's about time I got around to write this. As happy as I am with this whole thing, I gotta spoil the magic. This fanfic is loosely based on 'Chucky's New Target', the fanfic has been long discontinued, but you can still find it though. I just liked that idea so much that I just had to do my own take on it. Anyway, please enjoy and thank you for reading. Updates will usually be made on a weekly basis.**

"Wilkes…"

 _Where is the wonder? Where is the awe?_

"Hey, Wilkes."

 _Where is the Alice knocking at my door?_

"Wilkes!"

Osborne's eyelids fluttered a few times. He was still seeing blurry lines by the time he swiped his earbuds out. _Curse Nightwish and their oddly meditative power metal!_ The audio and video section of the Barnes and Noble was devoid of any life, not including himself sitting in his reclining swivel chair behind the counter, much like always. _Who buys CDs anymore?_

"Wilkes." The rather nasally voice chimed again.

"Hmm?" Ozzy said, lazily, seeing how his manager now stood, or rather attempted to and failed, over him. The two seemed to meet each other with an exchange of annoyed looks.

"I'm heading out a bit early tonight," Tom, as the shorter man's name tag read blandly, announced, "Can you lock up on your way out?"

"Yeah, sure," Ozzy nodded after a brief moment. His newly opened palm was then belted by the key ring Tom had passed his way. Had to be at least twenty of the freaking things on the wrist sized diameter.

"Appreciate it," Tom had begun to leave him to it, "Oh, and Wilkes-"

"I keep telling you, man. You can call me Ozzy," the cashier said, trying to force a smile. He wasn't a fan of last name usage among peers, it kind of gives off a hostile vibe.

"Wilkes," Tom continued unamused, "let's try to avoid sleeping during our shifts, can we?"

"No promises...Blanch," Ozzy accepted his challenge with a now half assed smirk. Damn, he could feel the edible he took that afternoon wearing off.

Tom only shot him a mean look before heading out the doors. Ozzy was pretty sure that that man would get the last laugh when layover season arrives. It was only a matter of time before Barnes and Noble realizes that they still continue to station clerks on their payroll in a CD and video section in the year 2016.

"Day and night, the lonely stoner…." Ozzy couldn't remember the rest of the words as he lounged back in his seat. The cheap plastic that made it up creaked beneath him. He crossed his legs on the counter and fixed his dreadlocks into the more easy to manage pony tail.

Osborne Wilkes, ladies and gentlemen. Twenty two going on twenty three, living on his own since eighteen. His parents helped him move out. After all, it was them who tossed all his shit on the front lawn and told him to 'piss off forever'. Aspiring to be an artist, though the Kickstarter hasn't been working out and he's still lucky if someone submits a commission on the website. If you're picturing the stereotypical stoner with the drug rug and dreads than you wouldn't be too far off, though you wouldn't be terribly close either. Ozzy doesn't do drug rugs, rather grayish button downs with a slim base layer beneath, both sets of sleeves usually rolled up. He'd often doodle down different outfit combinations for himself in the sketchbook he always keeps near. Osborne Wilkes is also a bit of a tattoo enthusiast, at least as much as he prefers to be; a nice Athenian Owl on his back, the Greyjoy House insignia from 'Thrones' on his right arm, and the words 'Where Art Thou?' in cursive going down his other one. One more and the parlor gives him a discount on the next one.

Ozzy continued to twirl the key ring around his middle finger absent mindly. His eyes began to wander, slowly tracing down his inner arm out in front of him down to his wrist. How he hated looking at it…

Right on his wrist, just on the point where that one juicy, blue vein seems to bulge, sits a birthmark. At first glance and hopefully the only one, it's nothing special. A medium sized red-brownish blotch of pigment upon his usually caucasian color. A nasty bruise, but when investigated closer it seems to get a bit more morbid or more or less badass. The blotch shaped in a near perfect horizontal oval, then one begins to realize that there's something else in there. A darker, blacker pigmentation like charred skin, perfectly within the oval and a very small, pale iris like gash in the dead center.

 _Who's the jackass who gave me a snake eye?_ Ozzy remembered asking his tattoo artist. He had the mark his whole life but never seemed to pay any heed to it during his childhood. As he grew older, the birthmark seemed to grow in size. Maybe all the medical tests were wrong, maybe it was an expanding rash or sign of a virus. Ozzy snorted at it, the mark whatever it may be; its repulsiveness knew no bounds. Sometimes he could look at it for hours (stoned off his mind of course) and just wait for the nonexistent eyelid to come over it briefly in a blink but it never did. Ozzy recalls nightmares where that happens.

His loath induced reflection was suddenly halted by the alarm tone on his phone. 'Shauna's Roller Derby 9:15 pm' the message box at the lock screen displayed upon lighting up. _Oh right, that was tonight._

Neatly coiling his earbuds around his phone, Ozzy pushed through the doors of the storefront while at the same time locking up behind him (after much effort of digging through the key ring for the right one). The evening breeze of July blew at such a perfect pace in easy intervals. Such a shame the roller derby was at an indoor rink.

Ozzy slid into the driver's seat of his dingy sudan. _Thank you, Craigslist. Yes, I'm ok that the AC sometimes spews out dirt particles. Yeah, I don't care that you have to turn the key twenty to thirty times to get it to start. No, I don't mind that there is a dead raccoon mangled in the front bumper, I can clean it out._

As he pulled out of the parking lot, Ozzy felt his eyelids become lighter. It was at that time he reached over into the glove compartment and pulled out a joint and a BIC lighter with a bulging eyed skull on it.

* * *

"You're doing it again, Shauna. You're picking fights with girls bigger than you." Ozzy laughed as he sprayed Neosporin on the dry blood spattered knee across his lap. Shauna groaned a bit when the stinging started. She removed her helmet, allowing her newly buzzed cut hair (or what little remained) to air out.

The couple sat at a table in the roller rink lobby. Ozzy had arrived just in time to see his girlfriend be crushed against the rink walls by a much larger skater. Shauna, still seeking graduation from the anger management class the summer school (she wanted to get into the business school before her junior year) had her go to, had the response of shooting back up again and decking her attacker. The refs had to break up the ensuing fight. Shauna had yet to totally cool down from the ordeal.

"That bitch slapped my ass everytime she skated behind me," she growled, folding her arms, "Yesterday I caught her finger fucking herself in the locker room! She was saying my name! The league is recruiting fucking perverts!" Ozzy was placing a band-aid on her knee.

"I don't see the problem," he humored, "I too slap your ass and say you're name in….certain cases," Once the band-aid patch covered her knee, Ozzy gave it a soft kiss, "There! All better!" Shaun moved her knee off his lap.

"Oh, that's so you, Ozzy," she had seen the moderate redness in his eyes, "Showing up to my semi finals baked."

"Am not," Ozzy said, head shaking with awkward giggles, "I'm just high. Baked implies that I have couch lock and the munchies."

"Then why did you order three funnel cakes at the concession stand?" Shauna pointed to the powder sugar coated paper plates stacked on the table. Ozzy licked his lips at the memory.

"I...uh...missed dinner...also why are they called funnel cakes? They don't even remotely resemble funnels...more like...twisted tree roots." Shauna zipped up her duffle bag beside her.

"I don't know what it is...but I can't be mad at you." She gave Ozzy a peck on the cheek.

"My love is your drug," Ozzy playfully droned. Shauna lightly smacked his arm. She seemed to have some spiritual connection to her bag, because the moment she picked it up she felt the slightest difference in it's weight. She felt it all over before dropping it and groaning to herself.

"Shit, I left my pads in the locker," Shauna got up, "Be right back."

"Hmmm-mmm," Ozzy hummed, beginning to lick the last specs of powdered sugar on the paper plates. Shauna managed to steal a finger full before leaving.

No shorter than thirty seconds later, Ozzy was up throwing the plates away. On his way back to the table, he passed by the TV that hung from the upper wall just above the bar area. He couldn't hear it, but the ever faithful black box with the white subtitles at the bottom of the screen was on. A news station by the look of it, an entertainment related one. The female anchor, fake as can be, was speaking over footage of an impressive looking mansion. In front of it, a crowd of people were placing candles and flowers on the lawn. _Condolences? Mourning?_

"The home that once belonged to Jennifer Tilly completes its first full year of dead silence," the subtitles read, "It was at this time last year when the late actress was found dead in her L.A. home at the age forty four. The cause of death was ruled out as an accidental fall. Her three children, Glen and Glenda; age fifteen and Charlotte; age nine were also found dead on the scene around the same time. The family's funeral was attended by over 3,000 fans the following day. Now, those same fans take time to pay their respects-"

"Ozzy."

"Wha!?" Ozzy jumped a bit upon feeling the tap on his shoulder. He turned and faced Shauna who now had her full bag over her shoulder.

"I'm ready to go," she said then looked up at the TV, "What's going on there?"

"Oh, it's the death date of, fucking what was her name? Oh, Jennifer Tilly." Ozzy explained. Shauna tilted her head.

"Who?"

"The...uh...actress…God, what the hell was she in?" Ozzy snapped his fingers in thought before clapping, "Mike Wazowski's girlfriend!" Shauna laughed.

"Is that really all you remember her as? Poor woman, everything she's done...all funneled down to a minor role in Monster's Inc. Hope she rests in peace."

"I don't know if she is," laughed Ozzy, "If I had a bunch of people I don't know dropping candles and shit on my lawn...I mean you do realize that in a few days that that yard is just going to be littered with dead flowers and candle wax...man, I wouldn't be able to rest easy."

"Oh really?" Shauna tilted her head, "Cause resting easy is all you do." That caused Ozzy to pause in thought.

"Do you think they grow kush in Heaven?" he asked out of the blue, "I guess the only way to find out for sure is to get there." Shauna began to haul him lightly by the hand out to the parking lot.

"How about we finish our work here before we move on to the next world?" she retorted, "Such as driving me back to the dorm because I have a practical tomorrow." Ozzy was still fumbling around for his key by the time they reached his car.

"Yeah...yeah, let's do that."

"It smells like straight weed in here, Ozzy," Shauna said, entering the passenger seat, "You should get an air freshener."

"No, Shauna….I am the air freshener."

* * *

"So, can I catch you tomorrow?" Ozzy asked as they pulled up to the community college dorm. _Ask her you idiot! Ask her!_

"Yeah, baby. I'm all yours tomorrow," said Shauna, getting her bags out of the back, "Your place, weed, and maybe we'll finally do that trip down to San Fran."

"Nice, tell your friend from locker room that she can join us too!" teased Ozzy. Shauna mockingly flipped him the bird. _Fucking do it! Ask her!_

"I love you, Ozzy."

"I love me too...jk, love you too." _Ask her you pussy!_

The two locked lips, a kiss which deepened with every second. Shauna ran her fingers through Ozzy's dreadlocks, something she often played with. She could feel the dryness within his mouth. Shauna parted from the kiss when she could feel Ozzy trying to suck the wetness of her mouth into his.

"Tha-that was dirty, Ozzy," she giggled, her salvia now returning.

"Oh, so the girl with the bag that smells like a roadkill deli is going to tell me about dirty," chucked Ozzy, "Hey...Shauna, can I ask you something?" _Fucking finally!_

"Yeah, anything."

"Well...I was...wondering if…" _Yes! Just say it! You got it!_

"What is it, Ozzy?" Shauna was now genuinely curious.

"Do you...want to...uh...go to Santa Barbara instead of San Francisco?" _FUCK! SHIT! FUCK!_

"Huh? Is that it?" Shauna said, disappointed.

"Yeah, yeah it is….I'm just stumbling over myself cause...the weed is too loud. Ha, happens to the best, right?"

"Sure. Well, see ya tomorrow." Shauna blew a kiss his way as she entered the building.

Ozzy just stood there for a bit, looking at the cracks in the sidewalk.

"Damn…" he said before climbing into his car and driving home."

 _Do you want to move in with me, Shauna? That's it! That's all you had to say! What are you afraid of?_

"That she's out of my league…she'll say no...and she'll leave me...and I'll be alone again," mumbled Ozzy to himself. A college girl, a roller derby champion, and a failing stoner artist. _Aren't underdog stories purely fiction?_

* * *

 _Please let her be out. Please let her be out…_

"Mr. Wilkes!" _Dammit!_

Ozzy turned away from the stairway of questionable structure. He had even taken a single step up and already the landlady was up in his grill. Mrs. Marsh waddled out of her lobby office. Every time Ozzy saw her do that it seemed that the doorway was becoming more and more narrow around her. Ozzy briefly glanced at the pocket on her half buttoned shirt, as always, the crack pipe was snuck as a bug inside. _We had to have a crack addict living in this section eight otherwise it wouldn't have been a complete piece of shit._

"Lizzy...yo," Ozzy greeted with a fake smile and wave. Whatever was coming, he really didn't need it.

"The family living down the hall from you complained again," Mrs. Marsh continued hissing, "That's the fifth time this week they complained about that weed cloud factory that you run in your room! They're asking me to kick you out!"

"Well, are you?" asked Ozzy, nonchalantly. Mrs. Marsh folded her arms.

"I damn well might! You're lucky I don't call the cops on you!"

"Why are you taking their side, Liz? I pay my rent on time, I don't sell weed to the other tenants, and I'm always real with you when I have an issue, which I usually have to end up doing myself. Why do you hate me so much?" It may not seem like it, but Ozzy was toying with her.

"The Roberts have a family. They're trying to raise kids here. You're a bad influence…" there was unease in Mrs. Marsh's voice.

"Really?" Ozzy hummed, "Is it because they have kids or because their rent is higher?" Mrs. Marsh tensed up as a nerve was struck, "I need to ask, how much of that money actually goes to the city? I mean, let's be real; stoner to crackhead, that's a lot of drug money right there…I'm pretty sure the other tenants would like to know where their money goes."

Mrs. Marsh let out an angry cough and backed down. "Just...quit the smoking when they're home...ok?"

"Let's hope they take a vacation during 4/20 then," Ozzy began up the stairs, he suddenly stopped, "And Liz, the wallpaper in my bathroom is peeling, can I get it replaced?" Mrs. Marsh folded her arms and stomped back into her office.

"Go to Hell, Wilkes…" she growled. Ozzy clapped his hands.

"Sweetness! Could it be green? I tried blue and it gave off kind of a gas station bathroom vibe."

The walk up to the second floor gave Ozzy a little less time than he wanted to revel in his small victory. The width between the walls shrunk drastically as he came out of the stairwell and into the poorly rug-clad hallway with peeling wallpaper.

"The Hell?" Ozzy didn't need to stand directly in front of his door marked '2E', the UPS box wasn't hard to see. It was a big one, when Ozzy stood over it, it towered to his knee. The box itself was wrapped in brown paper, giving it a little extra protection. It had his shipping address on it, from his first name to his zip code but no return address. Attached to it was a post it note. 'This came for you today, signed off on it too. If this is another one from the Silk Road then I could forward it to the police department-Mrs. Marsh.'

Ozzy laughed a bit at this. _Oh, Lizzy and her empty threats, besides I stopped ordering from Silk Road a while ago. They steal your pin numbers._

It wasn't so bad living in an second floor apartment like this. Bedroom, bathroom, and a kitchen/living room/hallway/dining room/drawing studio/smoking room. There was also this one window, look out it and you can see the alley in the dead back of the building. Get lucky and you might see someone get mugged.

Ozzy threw the box on the kitchen/living room/hallway/dining room/drawing studio/smoking room couch as he slammed the door behind him. He then sat down and began tearing at the paper before bending back the folds of the package. Well, at least after combating the packing tape around them with dull scissors. The box was filled to the brim with packing peanuts. Ozzy only had to brush them aside and all was revealed.

"What the fuck…."

Like the cardboard coffin it was, the box housed the lifeless body of a doll. The toy, assuming it was actually created for children, was the likening of a small girl that walked the age gap between toddler and preteen. It had that trademark doll face, a chubby complexion compared to human standards and fluffy brown hair of moderate length. The red brownish dress it wore reeked of laundry detergent while at the sametime emitted a sort of copper scent. It almost seemed like one was hiding the other. For a doll designed to be akin to a child, the face show a mature demeanor, like a stern orphanage nanny. The eyes were closed and relaxed with the mouth in a frown. It really looked like it didn't want to be disturbed.

'Who and why?' was the only question Ozzy was mentally asking himself when he picked up the doll from under the arms. He felt weird holding the thing. It seems that the doll makers were paying attention to even the littlest of details. The doll almost seemed to weigh like a small child too.

"AH!" Ozzy suddenly jumped as the doll's eyes flipped open mechanically in his hands. Its blue Persian cat like eyes were already fixed on him the moment the lids revealed them. The frown perked up into a smile, a small one but still passable.

"Hi,"it said in a singsong childlike voice, "I'm Lottie and I'm here to give you lots of love." It giggled lightly, then fell silent. Ozzy felt himself internally laugh, but that was moreover shadowed by the curiosity and many questions he had. Maybe it was a gift from Shauna, but she didn't have a thing for dolls. Maybe someone was messing with him. Or maybe it was Shauna telling him, in a really odd way, that she was preg- _NO! NO! GET THAT OUTTA HERE!_

Ozzy yawned. Whatever the reason, it would seem his apartment now had a new resident, at least for now. Ozzy wondered how much someone would pay for it at the flea market. For now he just accepted it as it was. He lived in a building in an area where people constantly got mugged or robbed. Getting a doll in the mail with no return address wasn't the sketchiest thing he's seen. He placed Lottie on the couch on the center cushion and took a few steps back, taking in the doll on the couch as if it was a photoshoot.

"Well, at least you tie the room together," Ozzy spoke to Lottie ironically, he then ruffled the doll's hair, "Thanks kid, this is much cheaper than getting a rug." Lottie just sat in silence, propped up against the sofa pillow.

Ozzy allowed himself to flop directly onto his bed once he entered his room, exhaling in fatigue. He spent the next undetermined period of time flipping through the pages of the sketchbook on his nightstand. A Giger like snake creature, a Lovecraftian fish man, the portrait of Shauna he drew for her twentieth birthday, then there was that one of the giant robot fighting a lobster of equal proportion in a harbor. Someone had actually commissioned him to draw that, but they never followed through with the payment when he was half done, Ozzy finished it anyway. Among all the drawings he had done, one was always his favorite.

A rendition of Atlas holding up the Earth on his shoulders, fully finished in color and detailed shadings. Ozzy always had a fascination with the Titan, more of the concept and not the character himself. Atlas, someone who the world literally depended on. Should he move even in the slightest than everyone would feel it, should he grow weak then everyone would want him to be strong. That was a punishment, holding up the world for all time...but how? How is meaning something to everyone a punishment? Holding their fate with your own two hands? Being apart of something far greater?

Ozzy sighed and closed the book. He didn't have the energy to flip himself over in a proper sleeping position. He pulled up a pillow under his chin and rested on it with his upturned birthmarked wrist lying inches from his face. He let his dreadlocks fall over his face. Sleep found him relatively easy that night.

 _Damn, it must be so cool to actually be a someone and to mean something…_

 **AN: Lottie belongs to CharlotteRay.**


	2. Knives in the Dark

_Ade due...Damballa…._

"What...where?"

Osborne Wilkes awakened, his limbs feeling like stone and unmoveable. He strained a bit before breathing out a tired sigh. It soon became evident that he wasn't lying down, not in the slightest. He was standing in a limbo like fashion. The place he found himself in could also be described as such. A room of nothingness, blank white everywhere. Where his vision would have to stretch, all that he saw was blurriness. It was strange, Ozzy could've sworn he heard a voice saying something or other.

 _Ade due Damballa_ there it was again. The sound didn't seem to come from anywhere around Ozzy, rather somewhere in the back of his skull.

"Ah!" Ozzy quickly turned around and jumped, startled a bit at the sight of the man that now stood before him.

A old looking man, dark skinned with a fatigued voice of pitiful charm. He had a snake coiled around his neck, its head rested on his shoulder while the end of its tail rested on his other. His eyes lacked pupils and irises, just plain and dead looking. The man slowly began to levitate so that he may look down on Ozzy. He seemed to faze slowly in and out of existence as if made of TV static.

"Osborne Wilkes," he spoke stretching a hand towards him. Ozzy took a step back, nothing else he could do but let the stranger speak.

"My name is Jon…" the stranger's mouth never moved when he spoke, rather it was done by the snake, which coiled tighter and tighter around his neck, "I know who you are….you bare the eye! You are chosen….you….wait…." the stranger's head turned slightly away and the snake hissed and raised its own head.

"Uh….what?" Ozzy was stupefied at this point. The stranger or Jon's blank eyes widened and his mouth opened in a silent scream where it could remain frozen.

"I am too late!" the snake on Jon's shoulder shouted, "It's already happening! They found you! It's….." Jon's eyes began to rain a waterfall of bright scarlet blood as the snake became more and more sporadic in its movement, thrusting its head around, "I can't….I can't be here much longer!" The puppet Jon and the snake began to flicker like a dying bulb. What sounded like a roar of wind seemed to be building up above them. It began in small claps before amping up to loud baritone whistles.

"Woah! Woah!" Ozzy held his hands out, "I'm the what!? What is starting!?"

"Acolyte!" the snake cried out, "Barer of the eye….beware the sinister Deacon…" the thunder sound was so loud it was only this much that Ozzy was able to hear; "Run….death of everyone….the funeral of time….rise of the serpent….sinister Deacon….lost soul….broken heart….acolyte!" The stranger finally did make a sound, one that wasn't emitted by the snake on his shoulder, but from his now blood caked mouth. It was the shrill shriek of a woman, sounding too real in comparison to anything that's been happening. The stranger continued to scream as the snake hissed its final message. Ozzy covered his ears as the screaming and what sounded like grenades exploding inches from his eardrums assaulted him with their demented symphony. Even through his covered ears, he could hear the muffled cry of the snake's phantom like voice.

"Friends….till the end…." it seemed to whisper.

The sound of thundering wind ceased as Ozzy felt himself free fall, but the woman's screaming continued. Long past the point where he felt the weight of his bed comforter and sheets on his body.

* * *

Ozzy shot up in his bed. The pillows that covered his head were flung off the side, hitting the apartment walls with pitiful impact.

"Wha...holy fuck…." Ozzy placed his forehead in an open palm as he swung his legs to his bedside where he sat. He steadied his breathing. For some reason, he could feel his head aching as if his skull was closing in tightly around his brain inside.

Ozzy clicked his tongue, mentally unpacking every little detail about what he had just seen or rather dreamt. Unconsciously, he picked up his phone. '3:15 am' the time read, a self inflicted pinch on the bridge of his nose soon followed.

 _Friends till the end….Acolyte_ Ozzy could vaguely remember some of the words almost as if they were key. And the woman's scream….one that seemed to sound a whole lot like Mrs. Marsh's, at least to him.

Suddenly, there was a metallic rattle in the next room. All Ozzy could see from where he sat was the doorway of his bedroom with complete darkness inside like a portal to the void. The rattle was unmistakable, the sound of silverware being rummaged through.

"Yo!" Ozzy called out, "Get the Hell out! If you want silverware try the dumpster outside! I threw away a couple of spoons the other day!" Again, the advantage of living in a borderline section eight, prowlers breaking in. Usually harmless, the last thing they want is a murder charge.

There was no answer, but the rattling stopped and all was silent….that is until Lottie spoke up from within the darkness.

"I didn't mean to. Hahaha." the doll giggled, her voice in all its childish glory. _Ok...well, that was just fucking terrifying…._

Ozzy was creeped out to say the least. He slowly rose from his bed and peaked out his bedroom's doorway into the darkness. His eyes slowly adjusted and he was able to make out shapes and shadows within the room. Seeing how it was empty, he pressed on.

Sure enough, as he had expected with the sudden draft and noises, the window was open. Ozzy exhaled, the intruder (assuming there was one) must've slipped out the window when he yelled out, typical.

Ozzy shut the window before going over the tiny kitchen area, by which I mean the part of the room with the stove, microwave oven, and a cabinet of pathetic proportions. The little wooden doors creaked as he pulled them open and examined what was lost in the possible robbery. In their pullout drawers, the spoons and forks were thrown around; lying at different angles and entangled in each other. Someone had truly been going through them, but it didn't look like any of them were missing. The same couldn't be said for the knives though….one was indeed missing….the biggest and sharpest one he had.

A frog was in Ozzy's throat. What if the intruder had taken the….and he never really left….and he was still….

"NO!" Ozzy turned around frantically, expecting someone or something to pounce on him….but there was nothing.

In the darkness, he could make out the doll, Lottie, still sitting where he had left her. Her head was in his direction and her eyes locked onto him or so it seemed in the blackness.

"I didn't mean to. Hahaha," Lottie repeated, no different than the first time.

"Lottie?" Ozzy suddenly finding himself speaking the doll's name. For no particular reason or assurance that he wasn't truly alone in the dark.

Then Ozzy suddenly felt the leathery grip of gloved digits wrap around the back of his neck. Fingers dug into his skin as he cried out. He then was flung to the floor, face first onto the hardwood before the couch. Ozzy covered his now bleeding nose and turned over, breathing heavily.

"Osborne Wilkes," someone spoke, more or less spoke, more of a low growl sounding barely human, "The Order of the Serpent demands your soul."

From the darkness emerged a figure. Ozzy could make him out as he loomed over him. A man, dressed in all black; long coat, trousers, boots, gloves, everything cameoed in the unlighted room. He wore a ski mask, eyeholes in the appropriate areas covered by tinted goggles. The figure than outstretched a gloved hand towards him, balanced on the palm was the silver gleam of a knife blade. Ozzy originally expected it to be the one from his kitchen, but it wasn't. The blade was semi curved with a squiggly white line running across the dark silver. The handle was fashioned the the shape of a snake with an open maw, the blade acting as its tongue. The whole thing looked….ritualistic.

Ozzy screamed. He couldn't stand or move. He just lay on his back with the blood from his nostrils beginning to ooze through his fingers.

"No! No!" he cried, "Stay away from me!" He held his hand over his face. The black clad man's eyes narrowed at the birthmark on his wrist in clear view.

"Yes," he purred darkly, "You are the one." He stomped on one of Ozzy's legs on the floor. Ozzy screamed as he felt something crack, not a bone but maybe a muscle. He threw his head back, hitting the couch behind him; the apparently empty couch. _Wait….where's Lottie?_

"NO! STOP!" Ozzy screamed as he saw the tip of the ritual like dagger approaching his chest. The figure raised the blade, Ozzy's eyes never left it. It seemed like years before it could come down and puncture his lungs, stomach, or maybe heart.

"AHHHHH!" the man in black suddenly roared, not a cry in attack but one in pain.

He dropped down to one knee and gripped his calf, which was now bleeding apparently. Ozzy could only continue laying where he was in fear and with new found confusion. The man in black screamed out again, feeling a sharp pain now in his lower back. He carelessly dropped his dagger beside him and his arms flailed about. Among his screams of agony, there was child like laughing. Not gleeful laughing but that of someone who knew they were inflicting pain, someone who knew they now held the life of that man in their hands and they was going to take it slowly.

When the man fell onto his back, something was on his chest. Something that appeared as a blotch within the darkness before its shape came into view. It was then Ozzy finally snapped out of whatever final reflections of his life he was in. Now reasonably thinking, he drove his hand into his pocket, yanked out his phone, and switched on the flashlight.

It was at this moment, when the line between reality and fantasy was broken. Ozzy's heart briefly skyrocketed and the frog in his throat exploded in a breathless gasp.

Lottie stood on the man in black's chest as he struggled beneath her. The doll held a knife, the knife from the kitchen, in one hand and the snake dagger that the man in black once wielded in her other. Her head slowly turned towards Ozzy, eyes narrowing at him before turning back to the man at her mercy.

"You…." the man growled, coughing and bleeding.

"Me…." Lottie mocked, impressively. Her voice no longer childlike and bubbly, but monotonous and cold.

"I know you….you serve the….disgraced one." the man said. Lottie got down on her knees on his chest, the knife tips were inches away from his heart.

"No, no. I don't 'serve' anyone….well, maybe I do at least until I turn eighteen."

"You are a child, a brat! You have no idea what game you're playing, little one!" The man in black tried to get up but Lottie quickly buried one of the knives in his lower gut. Her cried out as he fell back. Blood began to pool up at his side.

"Games, huh?" Lottie humored, "I know a lot of games. Personally, I'm a whiz at Candyland. But you know what I really kill at? Operation. In fact, I think I'm going to play right now." She steadied the knife over his heart, then his lungs, then finally his throat.

"Hmmmm….the broken heart, wishbone, or adam's apple….what do you think?"

The man in black spat in her face, his blood filled spit wad hit her under the eye. Lottie didn't snap, she didn't even flinch. She just exhaled slowly and wiped the liquid from her face with a single finger and nonchalantly flicked it aside.

"Adam's apple it is then," she slammed the knife directly into mid section of the man in black's neck. His head thrusted around as blood erupted from his mouth accompanied by disgusting gurgles. Lottie remained entirely neutral as she twisted the knife this way and that, the sound of tearing flesh and muscle music to her ears.

"HOLY FUCK!" Ozzy was now pushing back against the wall. His phone's flashlight danced around like a strobe light on the gruesome scene.

When Lottie finished and the man in black's once sporadic movements were reduced to little finger twitches, she slowly rose from where she knelt. A gaping hole was left in the man's neck, the thick blood bubbled within it like a morbid hot tub. Lottie then reached in and yanked out his scarlet soaked larynx, the finger twitches of the man in black stopped shortly after. The doll kneaded the organ in her hand like putty.

"I got the Adam's apple….but I lost the patient….pity that." Lottie tossed the larynx aside, it made a disgusting squish as it hit the wall. She glared at Ozzy, whose trembling hands managed to steady the light on here, barely anyway.

"N-no….no, no," was all Ozzy could say, shivering. He had hoped he was having a nightmare, but he had already slapped himself. This is was real. Lottie slowly began approaching him when he suddenly flashed the light in her eyes. She held a little forearm over her face.

"Hey, stop," she scolded, "Jeez, do you have a real light in here?" Lottie looked about the room, "Wait, you do. I got it." She casually hustled over the light switch on the wall. The doll leaped up a few times only to fall short of the wall mounted switch each time.

"One second," she told Ozzy, again totally casual. She then took an unsuspecting chair around the room and pushed it up to the wall. From there was able to stand on it and reach the switch and the apartment lit up.

Ozzy could now see her for what she was. A little girl doll, with a dull pink dress and cutesy shoes to match. A chubby doll like face full of malice, coldness, and maturity. There was something so….human about Lottie, now that she shown her true colors.

"That's better," she nodded, climbing down from the chair. She then approached Ozzy, two knives drawn at her side.

"DON'T COME NEAR ME!" Ozzy screamed, hands covering his head. Lottie continued advancing. She then seemed to stand over him, like she had before with the man in black. How could something so small make you feel even smaller?

"STOP!" Lottie was now only inches away from him, standing there ominously. She then tossed the kitchen knife aside and that now empty hand was extended down to him.

"Come with me if you want live," she said.

"W-wha-" Ozzy removed his hands from his head, easing up a bit but not letting his guard totally down.

"Hahahahahaha," Lottie's straight face then broke down and so did her serious demeanor, but only for that second, "I always wanted to say that."

"What are you?" Ozzy jumped right into the question on his mind.

"You know this," Lottie spoke in her doll voice, again full childish innocence and giggles, "I'm Lottie and I'm here to give you lots of love!'

"Yeah….I know, but you're…."

"A doll?" Lottie reverted back to her own voice, "Well, yeah, physically I'm a doll, but in truth, I'm just like you. Beneath this plastic lies flesh and blood and the mind of a genius. Well, a sociopathic psycho genius if I do say so myself." _Ok...the doll is alive….I'll leave it at that._

"You….you killed that man," Ozzy pointed the body of the man in black.

"Obviously," retorted Lottie, "I certainly didn't lull him to sleep. Look, we need to-" she reached out to Ozzy's arm. He cried out and swung his arm out at her. Lottie managed to duck under it, preferring not to go flying across the room like a ragdoll.

"DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE! LEAVE ME ALONE YOU FREAK!" he shouted.

"Hey!" Lottie rose her voice, but only a little, "This 'freak' just saved you! That man was going to subject you to a fate worse than a slow death! If anything, a 'thank you' is in order!"

"You mean….you're going to let me…." Ozzy calmed a bit.

"For now, at least," Lottie answered, "Osborne Wilkes, right?"

"I really wish not….yes," sighed Ozzy.

"Can I see your wrist?" Lottie asked, holding out her hand expecting cooperation. Ozzy simply showed her it, he knew which one she was talking about.

"Yes," she said, inspecting the birthmark, "It checks out. You're the one."

"The one?"

"Yeah, the one who is coming with me right now. We can't stay here." Lottie motioned to the door, "You have a car? Let's go."

"Where?" asked Ozzy.

"To my dad," said Lottie, "He's gonna know what to do. People are looking for you, Osborne. They have been for a long time."

"Who?" Ozzy glanced over the corpse of the man in black, still leaking out on the floor, "People like him? Why? What do they want? What did I do?"

"Jesus, do you ever say something that isn't a question?" scowled Lottie, "Now, let's go."

"I'm not going anywhere," Ozzy said, firmly, "You're just gonna kill me….like you killed him ."

"You better come with me. If it isn't already obvious, I'm trying to keep you alive. Staying here is just going to get you killed faster. There's a whole more where our 'mystery man' here came from. They know where you live now, Osborne. Coming with me is your best bet. And also because-"

It happened too fast. Within seconds Lottie was upon him. Standing on his stomach, clutching his scalp with the blade of the snake dagger against his throat.

"I'm not giving you a choice." Lottie challenged him. Ozzy gasped lightly, feeling the cold press of the dagger. He steadied his breathing once more and glared at Lottie.

"Where do we need to go?"

"Glad you were able to listen to reason, Osborne," smirked Lottie, she climbed onto his side and kept the knife pressed against the back of his neck. "Grab anything you might need and let's get out of here."

Ozzy, Lottie now on his back, rushed into his bedroom. He grabbed his messenger bag from his closet and stuffed inside his sketchbook and a couple of utensils. He then reached under his bed and yanked out a lockbox. Inside, what did you expect, bags upon bags of cannabis complete with rolling papers, a grinder, and filters. All this was also shoved into his bag.

"Wow, really?" Lottie huffed.

"Hey, I might not make it through this," argued Ozzy, "I'm not going out sober!"

"Whatever you say, buffalo soldier."

The keys were the last to go as Ozzy pocketed them on his way out the door, slamming it on the way out. The man in black still lay on the floor. His bleeding had soon stopped and a pool of blood surrounded the corpse. An ocean of red and an island made from a dead body. It soon began to soak through the carpet and seep through the floor into the room below.

* * *

"L.A," Lottie said, removing herself from Ozzy's back as he climbed into the driver's seat, she sat herself on the middle console of his car and kept the knife closeby, "We need to go to L.A. I'm bringing you to my family, my dad wants to see you."

"Is he the guy who's gonna tell me what the fuck is going on?" asked Ozzy, beginning to see how crazy this was and the potential on how much more crazier it could become.

"Without a doubt," said Lottie, "He knows more than I do. He's the one who told me who you were and where to find you. He's been watching you too, you know."

"Who's your dad?" Ozzy asked while at the sametime whether it was possible for a doll to even have a dad. Lottie had to pause in thought a bit before answering.

"Thing is, my dad can't really be described to anyone. They honestly have to see him for themselves…." not the answer Ozzy was looking for.

"Is he like you? A doll?"

"Yes." Ozzy gulped.

"Is he going to….kill me?"

"No….not at the moment," Lottie was painfully honest with this one, "He wants you alive. How long it stays like that, depends entirely on his mood." Ozzy started the car.

"What does he want from me?"

"You're a person of interest to us," explained Lottie, "You're what they call the 'Acolyte'..."

 _Acolyte._ There was that word again. One of the words that Ozzy could easily recall from his dream. What the stranger with the snake told him. They did mean something after all. It was a lot for Ozzy to take in given the current moment. People knew who he was and they wanted him dead….for something. But it soon occurred to him that whoever the man in black was or Lottie were, they didn't want him died for something he did. They wanted him dead for something he was.

The moment he was out of the parking spot outside the apartments, Ozzy sped away. Down the street lighted road, past the city limits, and onto the highway toward Los Angeles.

The blood of the man in black had fully bled through Ozzy's apartment floor. The neighbor below was awakened by first appeared to be a leak through his ceiling dripping on his face. However, the coppery taste and thickness revealed that it wasn't water. The neighbor called the police and they were over within fifteen minutes. As they entered the lobby, a gruesome exhibit awaited them in Mrs. Marsh's office. The woman had been mangled, her head sat neatly on her desk while her headless body lie on the floor. Her head had been completely scalped and her teeth and eyes removed. Her tongue was sliced into a two prong fork, seen dangling out of her open mouth, much like that of a snake's. Neighbors and residents claimed that heard her screaming in the dead of night. Some reported to have heard it between the hours of 3:00 and 3:15, right after she had refused entry to a rather suspicious looking man dressed in black.


	3. Meet the Rays

The Californian sky was painted that tangerine texture as the sun began to rise, seemingly across the highway. Ozzy's grip loosened on his steering wheel and his eyelids practically dragged themselves down, only to shoot back up seconds later. For once, it wasn't the THC in his veins, it was the melatonin in his brain.

"Hey!" Lottie reached out from the passenger seat and gave him a smack, meant to be heavy and taken lightly, on the back of the head, "Now isn't the time to invest a timeshare in dreamland." In reality, she really could hold a candle to Ozzy, who had been driving until first light. She had been guilty of the crime falling asleep twice since they left the apartment. It was only when Ozzy bothered to change the radio to anything that wasn't the soap opera channel that Lottie awoke and quickly changed it back.

Ozzy shook his head, stirring himself, "We've already passed downtown L.A, where could we be going?"

"Studio district," said Lottie, "Get off right here." She pointed to an exit sign, and Ozzy got off the highway.

"Studio district? Your dad works on movies?" Ozzy asked, humorously. Lottie actually smiled for a microsecond, picturing her father in a director's chair.

"Thankfully not. If he worked in film, I'd say he'd be in a series of movies….each sequel progressively worse then the last but with small redeeming moments that make them a bit unique but nonetheless mediocre altogether."

"...Wow….wasn't expecting an honest answer…." Ozzy chuckled. Lottie smirked.

The road soon took them to what could best be described as the storage locker of Hollywood. A bit beyond where the studios were established and where the famous lived. An industrial like area with warehouses lined up against the street in rows. Each with a respective studio branded on it like a piece of property. There was one for Warner Bros, Universal, Paramount, the list goes on.

Lottie had Ozzy pull up to one marked with the Universal logo. The large white, bold letters around the world were beginning to fade. The globe was missing a majority of its outline, one side of a legible planet Earth was clashing with sloppy blotches of green and blue. Almost like the planet was bleeding out. Whatever this warehouse was, it hasn't been opened, let alone touched, in a long time.

"This is the place," Lottie then swiftly climbed back on Ozzy's back as he turned to exit the car. She wrapped her legs around his upper torso and used his dreadlocks as an improve grip. Again, Ozzy could feel the cool tip of the dagger pressed against the back of his neck where Lottie held it.

"Don't even think about running," she hissed, "Over there." Ozzy whistled in interest as she guided him to the impending rusty doors of the warehouse, which were locked from the inside.

Lottie let herself down on the ground and gave one of the doors a couple of hefty knocks with the butt of the dagger. Ozzy could hear the metal boom echo throughout the warehouse within. There was then the clicking of locks coming undone. Judging by the sound of them, there had to be at least five bolts locked in. The door gaped open just a crack before slowly creaking all the way as if the wind or something that hid itself very well was doing all the work. Lottie gestured to Ozzy.

"Follow me in. Again, I ask you to not think you can run….you're in our house now." Ozzy couldn't tell if that was a warning or a challenge. Clutching his bag under his arm, he followed the doll inside. The door wasn't short of closing behind him the second he entered and the bolts once again locked back into place.

The interior reeked dreadfully, smelling like very old brass. The air was thick and clammy, the roof was decorated in webs that cased around the dim lights like a cocoon. It was almost as if the bulbs were suffocating to death. The whole place was in fact just a big storage bin for the studio's props they used in their movies….the low budget ones at least since not a single article of what Ozzy saw rang any bells. Most of them were in wooden crates stacked all around like a jungle. In fact, he and Lottie were walking down an aisle surrounded by the boxes.

Behind the stacks and within the dark spots, Ozzy could here scampering and shadows moving. At first he figured a rat's nest or something, but the shadows seemed far too big to be that of a rodent. Lottie was either oblivious or choosing to ignore it as she continued on in front of him next to the crates that seemed to trap them in a maze.

Suddenly, Lottie cried out as she stopped dead in her tracks and something slightly bigger than her engulfed itself around her. Ozzy jumped back and yelped in fright. Lottie seemed to struggle a bit before standing still in annoyance.

"Guess who?" someone new said. An easily identifiable voice of yet another girl, but this seemed nothing Lottie's. It was more high pitched, at least trying to be on purpose. There was far more energy in it too, totally maniacal and psychotic.

Ozzy had gained back the distance he had lagged behind Lottie and the dim light on the ceiling brightened up before dying back down. Lottie stood, arms folded with the dagger tucked between them. Behind her stood another doll. This one, taller than her and frizzy red hair engulfing most of her frame. Dressed fancy in a pink bridesmaid like dress with a choker. Fancy couldn't be used to describe her facial features though, illuminated by the weak light. Freckles on her cheeks just below her wide blue eyes with dilated pupils. A massive grin, too large for any human to display, stretched across her face. Her teeth even seemed to be pointed in areas, sharp as dull razors almost. She was snickering through her grin as she covered both Lottie's eyes with each neatly manicured hands.

"Glenda, so help me, you have less than ten seconds to take your hands off me before I do it for you," growled Lottie.

"...Close enough!" the taller doll kept her hands to herself, "How was your trip?"

"Terrible," spat Lottie, "I got lost in the mail twice! That's the last time I ask you for help!"

"Archer Road, Archer Street, what's the difference?" Glenda chuckled, she then glanced over at Ozzy, "Who the Hell's this?"

"Osborne Wilkes," Lottie spoke for him, "The one dad's been looking for." Glenda gave him a funny look.

"All this time, dad's been looking for a pot dealer? Is this his guy or something?"

"I don't sell," Ozzy uncontrollably blurted out. When you're avid drug user and called a dealer, it's instinct to say otherwise.

"Hmmm,mmm," Glenda hummed dreamily, looking him over far too much for comfort, "I know I'd like to get together and feel alright with you, if you know what I'm saying….Dreadie." Ozzy just shuffled a bit uncomfortably where he stood. Lottie heaved a bit, as if she vomited a bit in her mouth.

"Who is this, Lottie?" Ozzy asked, it felt weird addressing her by her real name. Then again, it was even weirder that dolls were sentient.

"My sister, Glenda," she hissed as Glenda pat her on the head.

"Big sister," she emphasized. Lottie swatted at her hand.

"Is dad around?"

"Sure is, down that way." Glenda gestured down the seemingly endless aisle. Lottie started back off again. Expecting both her sister and Ozzy to follow. As they walked Glenda lagged behind, purposely walking beside Ozzy.

"So….Dreadie," she curled her fingers in her hair, "Sorry, can I call you 'Dreadie?'"

"You don't have to….my name is Ozzy." Glenda paused in thought unconvincing.

"No, fuck that, you're Dreadie to me…. **my** Dreadie." She purred happily as she pressed her head to his leg. Ozzy again stirred uncomfortably.

As they descended deeper into the warehouse, the props became much more numerous. Cardboard, life sized cutouts of the classic Universal monsters were propped up in some places, from Phantom of the Opera to the Creature from the Black Lagoon. Rubber latex monster limbs protruded from some of the crates, as if clawing for an escape. It all was comparable to a line queue for a horror themed dark ride, oddly enough. Ozzy felt his thumb dig furiously at the snake eye mark on his wrist, silently blaming it for his current position.

The isle of crates slowly gave way as the trio came to a large empty space, the ass end of the building given some space to breathe among the clutter. Lottie seemed to stop in the dead center of the circle like area and the flickering light above her suddenly whirred to life, layering the dimness with extremely thin brightness.

"Dad! Mom! I'm home!" Lottie called out. Her voice echoed throughout the hollow building. It was on its second reverberation, when the scurrying of little footsteps could be heard. They grew closer in rapid succession, seemingly working their way from behind where Ozzy stood alongside Glenda to somewhere in front of them.

Two more dolls presented themselves, emerging from behind a large stack of crates. The shorter one bare an uncanny resemblance to Glenda facially. Blue eyes, freckles, frizzy red hair (shorter than hers by a longshot), and even the pointed teeth, showed to Ozzy when the doll yawned. Truth be told, he (at least it resembled a boy rather than a girl) seemed to be the most innocent little thing that Ozzy had ever seen. Purple fitted him well, almost like he was made to wear that violet turtleneck. Which seemed a bit too big for him, the fabric neck covered his own and even held its ground outside of his mouth, almost like a ninja's mask. His lower body was fitted with kiddy grey shorts and shoes. Attached to his waist by a short black chain, was the sheathed blade of a tantō. His vague blue eyes were hard to get a read on, but despite his seemingly innocent frame, Ozzy could tell that this doll had some pretty dark things to tell.

The taller doll stood by him in a motherly fashion. 'Chucky,' Ozzy silently read out words upon the tattoo of a heart on the breast of said doll. _Nice, look at her. Bringing back the name and heart tat!_ She seemed a mix of dark and light; a white bride's dress, golden blonde hair, and light green eyes with mascara and feathery lashes, worked together with the painted black fingernails and lips and dark heel boots to create a visade of Gothic beauty. The little mole above the right side of her lip couldn't have been something that came standard with the doll, it was just too….human like. Her entire look was like a disguise for the sinister soul that lies within. At any given moment, the innocent looking persona of the bride would break down and make way for an animalistic demeanor; something that was dead set on killing all for the name of love even if it was intentionally misguided or misplaced.

"Lottie!" she cried out, her voice shrill and angel like, as she rushed over to her and wrapped her tightly in a hug.

"Hi mom," Lottie hugged her back, tapping the taller doll's back when she felt the squeezing becoming too tight. The bride began feeling around her daughter's face.

"How was it? Are you hurt? If so, where?" Lottie playfully batted her mother's hands away.

"I'm fine. I'm ok. Everything went smoothly," she laughed, "I'm just not sure how you and dad do it. Going about in the mail like that. The box was so small, how are you supposed to breathe?"

"Dolls aren't supposed to breathe Lottie…."

Ozzy's head shot around at the voice of the unseen speaker. It wasn't the bride, Lottie, Glenda, or the silent doll in the purple turtleneck. It was difficult to describe, not in a sense where words couldn't be used, but in the sense where it was too unsettling to even think about. Deep and demonic mixed with the aftertaste of dark humor.

Sitting on the top of a stack of crates was a Good Guy doll or rather what little could be described as such. It's plastic skin on its face and hands was stickered with messy leather stitches holding the demented form together. The flashy rainbow colored shirt and overalls were tattered and torn in some places. The hair for some reason, was maintained, as if it was tended to on a regular basis. Wavy, red, and lengthy like an angel of death. Ozzy never knew of the hype the Good Guy dolls had back in the 80s when they were released, but he did know that they along with the very toy company that created them were shut down for a reason….and perhaps maybe this was it. The demented Good Guy doll uncrossed his legs and stood up before leaping off the crate stack. He embraced Lottie and kissed her forehead affectionately.

"I am proud of you though," he chuckled. Lottie smiled back proudly, thanking him.

Ozzy felt walled in within the dolls, them surrounding him in a small semi circle. The Good Guy doll narrowed his eyes at him and tilted his head to the side.

"Yes…." he muttered, taking a step towards Ozzy, who gasped and backed away slightly.

"Mr….Lottie's dad?" he whimpered.

"That would be me. And judging by the look on your face, I can tell you like the stitches," the Good Guy doll traced over a couple of the leather strings on his cheek, "Pretty metal, right? Nice dreads by the way, I kind of wanted some just like that but wife disapproves." He glanced over at the bride doll and winked. She shook her head at him playfully.

"Who are you and how do you know me?" Ozzy asked. The Good Guy doll snickered.

"Why, I'm Chucky….maybe you heard of me? Most people have. Can you imagine that? Never being able to look at a Good Guy doll the same again."

"No….I don't think I have," Ozzy slowly shook his head. Chucky raised an eyebrow.

"Wait, seriously? You know, 'the killer doll'? What about that one newspaper article, 'Barclay child blames series of killings on doll'? Or the one, 'Good Guy doll, Chucky, possessed by deceased serial killer's soul'?"

Again, Ozzy shook his head.

"Oh come on! That made the front page!" Chucky stomped his foot. Ozzy awkwardly looked around at the other dolls around him.

"What about them?" he asked motioning to Chucky's wife and kids.

"The fam," Chucky said, putting his hands around the shorter male doll dressed in purple, "My son; Glen."

"Konichiwa," Glen bowed. Odd, he spoke Japanese, yet his voice was English accented.

"Yeah, he's the weird one," Glenda jumped in, "He thinks he's a samurai."

"Ronin," coughed Glen, "I'm a ronin, samurai with no master." He pulled his turtleneck over his mouth as if to illustrate a point. Glenda shook her head.

"Oh, my poor insane twin…."

"You already met my daughters, Glenda and Lottie," Chucky motioned to the two girls. Lottie remained silent while Glenda wrapped herself around Ozzy's leg.

"C'mon Dreadie. Say my name, say my name, what's my name?" Glenda nuzzled his shin. Ozzy shook his leg slightly in an attempt to get her off, but she clung to him like glue. Chucky laughed at this.

"Hell knows what this girl's gonna bring home when she starts dating," He then turned to the bride doll, "And this is Tiffany."

Tiffany put a finger to her mouth, as if scanning over Ozzy carefully. "It's been so long since we had a guest." As gentle as that sounded, it didn't sit well with Ozzy. There was definitely a hidden malice behind the harmonious saint like voice Tiffany possessed.

"And you're Osborne Wilkes, I believe," Chucky smirked, "Truth be told, I was expecting you to be a bit more older….but hey, you look to be a chill kind of guy so I'll settle for that."

"You're talking to me like I have a clue what's going on," Ozzy said, impatiently, "I've had a bad night. Some guy breaks into my apartment, tries to kill me, then I get held hostage by a doll I got in the mail which happens to be alive."

"I have a name you know," Lottie folded her arms.

"Do you have the birthmark?" Chucky asked, unfazed by anything Ozzy just said. Ozzy flashed it before him. Chucky nodded with a 'hmm mmm'.

"What's so important about this, anyway?" Ozzy covered his wrist back up with his sleeve, "It's just a fugly mark."

"Oh, it's much more than that," Chucky said, "Do you believe in magic, Ozzy?"

"I'm in the company of a family of supernaturally sentient dolls. I think I'm becoming a believer."

"Good, it will be easier to explain," Chucky reached up and grabbed his hand, Ozzy resisted a bit in his plastic grasp of manish strength, "This birthmark you got here is the Eye of Damballa." Ozzy blinked.

"The what of what?"

"Ozzy how do you think I am….like this? How do you think we're all living as dolls?"

"Um….you're demons summoned from another plane? You're dark manifestations of humanity's blackest desires? Or maybe you were just born with rare mutations?"

"Fuck….no," Chucky mentally facepalmed, "Just…I can't even begin to piece together how wrong you just were." Ozzy shrugged.

"I read a lot of fantasy and sci-fi," he said.

"I rather like the demons theory," chimed in Lottie. Glenda agreed with her.

"Magic, Ozzy," Chucky put in simply, "It's all voodoo magic of Damballa. You should know, you're the Acolyte after all."

"There it is again," pointed Ozzy, "Acolyte, what is that?"

"You, you dense ass," laughed Chucky, "See, up there, there's more than one god. Damballa is the voodoo god of death, the serpent he's sometimes known as. I wouldn't call myself a worshipper of him, I don't bow to anyone, just a buyer of his product; everlasting life."

"That's how you're a doll then…." Ozzy put two and two together.

"Nothing like changing bodies like gym uniforms, right? I say the magic words, he appears to me, and plays switcheroo with my soul. But the chant I know doesn't summon him entirely. Every generation or so, an Acolyte is born. Think of them as like a living bridge between Damballa and us. You can bring Damballa here, Ozzy." Ozzy resisted the urge to bite his nails.

"What happens then?"

"You read sci-fi. I'm sure you can picture the worse case scenario of an apocalypse." Chucky seemed too eager to answer that question.

"I…." Ozzy needed to process this, "I didn't know…."

"The shadow men seem to know." Lottie said, and presented the dagger she got from the episode at the apartment to her dad.

"Damn, Lottie," he whistled, holding the blade, "What is this, like your fifth one this week?"

"Seventh, beat my record," smiled Lottie.

"Shadow men? Is that what they are?" questioned Ozzy.

"It's what we call them since they always dress in black," explained Lottie.

"Who are they?"

"The Order of the Serpent," Chucky muttered, resentment in his voice, "They've been on our asses for a year now….and guess when we found you so did they….fucking cult."

"What would they want with you?"

"Aside from standing in their way of getting to you, it's….personal." Chucky was purposeful in staying in the dark about it.

"Lottie said that you wanted me alive," Ozzy glanced at the youngest Ray child, "Are you trying to protect me from them? Is that why you brought me here?"

Chucky and his family paused in perfect synchronization. They all giggled at first before throwing their head backs in laughter. All except Glen, who simply hung his head and turned away briefly.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA, no," Chucky's laughter stopped as did his family's almost at the exact same time, "You fucking kidding? Ozzy, you're the Acolyte of Damballa, you're a gold mine of voodoo magic. I'm gonna use you summon Damballa! He'll give me anything I want! Maybe even make me his Death King, how knows? I'm not passing that up! I can set my family and I up for life!" Ozzy felt his stomach drop. Perhaps that was all the hope he had just lost.

"So….you're just going to kill me anyway!?"

"Not now, at least," Chucky said, Ozzy seemed used to getting that answer, "I need you alive for now for the soul transfer. Right now you probably have no idea how to summon Damballa , but I do. If I were you, and I will be soon, I'd have already done it," Chucky then pulled out an amulet of some kind from his overalls. At least what was left of one, it was a pendent of stone with a red gemstone of some kind in the center; the center which was split down in half, "This is the Heart of Damballa, I need it for soul transfers. Unfortunately, the last time we butted heads with the Order of the Serpent, they stole the other half. The Heart is broken until I get it back."

 _Broken Heart!_ Ozzy blinked in surprise as another bell in his head was rung. The stranger from his dream had spoken of a broken heart….

"What happens now?" he pitifully asked, head lowering slowly.

"From now on, you're with us. You can try running, but if it wasn't already obvious, you probably won't get anywhere far from us. I can tell you, it's not exactly easy pickings running with sliced ankles...or throat. But let's just say that somewhere in a parallel universe you do somehow kill us all and leave. Where will you go, Ozzy? You'll have the Order of the Serpent to live with, they can find you faster than we did. Right now, they're probably ripping your apartment a new asshole trying to find you." Chucky folded his arms mockingly.

"Do you really think they're doing that?" Ozzy asked with newfound dread.

"They know where you live, don't they?" Ozzy's mouth dropped and his hand quickly flew over it.

"Shauna…." he whispered.

"Huh?"

"Shauna!"

"Who's Shauna?" Chucky asked.

"My girlfriend." Glenda's head immediately shot up.

"Say what now?" she seethed.

"So?" Chucky snorted.

"They'll….know!" Ozzy shouted, "They'll know where she lives and goes to school! I have her picture and class schedule on my fridge!"

"Oh well," shrugged Chucky, "Sucks to be her then, doesn't it?"

"Won't they come after her!?"

"Pretty sure they'll do much more than just that. They might kill her entire family just to get to you." Chucky was beyond calm when he said this.

"We...we gotta go get her! She's in danger!" cried Ozzy.

"No, we don't!" chimed Glenda, "It's ok, Ozzy, she's just one girl! There's more fish in the sea!"

"What Glenda said," Chucky motioned to his daughter, "Besides, I already busted my balls finding and I can tell many more balls are going to be busted while you're here. What do you think we are, a fucking rescue time?"

"Well, you did save me," pointed out Ozzy. Chucky frowned.

"Yeah, because you matter right now! She doesn't mean shit!"  
"She means shit to me!"

"Still, fuck no! Just let her go, it isn't going to matter soon anyway!"

Ozzy trembled where he stood. In a burst of speed and adrenaline he swiped out and snatched the dagger from Chucky's grasp. Ozzy held the knife over his own chest, the tip of the blade pointed downward to his rapidly beating heart. Chucky angrily held his hand out.

"Don't!" he yelled.

"We get Shauna or else!" Ozzy lowered the tip to the point where he could feel it balancing on his shirt. Chucky's brows furrowed.

"Fine! Do it! We don't really need you!"

"I think you do!" challenged Ozzy, "If I die then sure, you can't be a Death King, whatever the fuck it is. But you don't have anywhere to go like me. The Order of the Serpent will still want your ass! You and your family's! Granted they won't be able to end the world anymore, but they'll still end you! You need me alive for that soul transfer, right?"

"..." Chucky's lowered in thought.

"We get Shauna or I die," repeated Ozzy. Chucky glanced over at Tiffany, who shrugged and nodded her head at him. Glen and Lottie shadowed this as well, only Glenda was against it. Shaking her head viciously at her dad.

"Yeah….ok," Chucky muttered, "We get Shauna…"  
Ozzy was satisfied. He dropped the dagger at Chucky's feet.

"We're going now," he said, "I have a car outside." Ozzy turned heel back towards the doors of the warehouse. The family of dolls followed him closely.

"So….this lady friend of yours," Glenda continued to walk the closest by him, "Is it like an open relationship?"

"Glenda, do your hormones know no bounds?" mused Lottie, pacing at Ozzy's other side.


	4. With Friends Like These

_Young Charles Lee Ray sat with his knees pulled to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around his legs as he shivered. He tried to keep his shaking at a minimum. Despite his efforts, the tin garbage can he took refuge in vibrated around him, humming a metallic tune. He didn't know what came over him. Charles was never an angry kid nor a violent one. He had just wanted it all to stop; the cruel pranks, vile name calling, and the hitting, that was the worst._

 _Charles clenched his bleeding knuckles, he should've thought twice about throwing that punch. Darius must've had a face made out of stone or something. Sure he spat out a cane, but he didn't even flinch. Charles had ran, sobbing heavily as his tormenter gave chase with a butterfly knife rattling in his grip. The trash can in the alley offered him shelter, but for how long?_

 _"Daddy….Tiffany," the young Ray softly whispered the names of his long deceased father and only friend. He wished they were there with him. His dad to protect him and Tiffany to kiss and soothe his injuries like she always would then tell him that everything was going to be ok._

 _"AAAH!" Charles screamed as the trash can was roughly kicked over, he flopped out onto the concrete like a fish out of water and equally as defenseless as such. He covered his face. He didn't have to look to know it was Darius with two of his friends behind him. Ben and Olivia he thinks their names were._

 _"D-darius wait!"_

 _The bigger kid yanked Charles up by the shirt collar and drove his fist into his gut. Charles heaved in pain, feeling the lunch he and Tiffany had shared earlier that day rise up from his stomach. He forced himself the swallow whatever undigested materials flooded his mouth._

 _"C'mon, you little fuck!" laughed Darius, "Where was all that good shit!? For once, you hit me like you didn't have a vagina! If you want a real fight, then I'll give you one!" Darius then threw him against the building beside them._

 _Charles felt the back of his scalp split as they scraped against the brick wall. He cried out as he felt his hair become damp with blood._

 _"I-I don't want to fight! Please! I just want it to stop!" he sobbed, "I just want it all to stop! Leave me alone please! I didn't do anything!"_

 _"Oh, ok," snickered Darius, "You want me to stop? Want me to just end it all?"_

 _"Yes, please," weakly nodded Charles. Darius flipped his butterfly knife._

 _"Well, you asked for it." He grabbed Charles' neck and held the blade to his neck._

 _"N-no!" Charles cried. Darius and his two friends howled with laughter. Charles tried to break free, but the wall and Darius held him firmly in one place._

 _"Don't worry about your girlfriend," Darius ran the blade down the smaller kid's cheek, the tip painted a thin trail of blood, "I'll take care of her better than you have, faggot!" Charles knew it, he was still salty about Tiffany preferring himself over him._

 _Ben suddenly started screaming. As Darius and Olivia looked back at him it was if the darkness of the alley had come alive and pulled him inside like a ragdoll._

 _Then there was the sound of tearing, like a cloth that had been soaked in thick and grimy liquid was being ripped apart. Ben's ear piercing screaming became much more high pitched akin to a tape recorder going haywire as the tearing grew louder. Ben continued to squeal and screech nightmare inducingly. Then all was quiet._

 _"Ben?" Darius and Olivia croaked nervously. Charles remained silently where he was in a state of vertigo._

 _Ben didn't answer, but he did show himself. The boy emerged from the darkness, moaning and gurgling. Sticking out from his neck was the blade of a broad hunting knife. Ben, mouth agape with choppy movements, slowly raised his hand and lightly touched the tip. Then fell flat on his face, from shock, he would bleed out later._

 _Olivia was the first to scream. She darted out towards the street outside, clumsily stepping in the blood puddle that now surrounded Ben. But she was intercepted and caught by the living shadow of the alley. Though now it took on a more humanoid form._

 _A deviously tall man dressed in all black; coat, pants, boots, gloves, everything. He reached out and twisted his fingers in Olivia's hair and dragged the screaming girl towards a dumpster. He slammed her head down on the rim of the container then slammed the lid down as hard as he could, only to raise it once more and bring it down again twice as hard then doing it all once more._

 _Olivia struggled in vain and flailed about every time the lid struck her. Blood spattered on the rusted metal and she continued screaming and thrashing her arms and legs. The tall man raised the lid once more and smashed it down, this time, it embedded itself within the back of Olivia's skull like a hatchet. Olivia stopped moving and the tall man let her body fall as he let her go._

 _The killer then loomed over Darius within that instant and pinned him against the wall just as he had done to Charles. He gazed down at the butterfly knife in the boy's grip and frowned in disappointment._

 _"A kid your age shouldn't be carrying around something like this," he mock scolded, like it was the built up to some joke. Beads of sweat poured down from under Darius' hair and onto his face. They would mix with his tears._

 _"Pl-please, no," the bully sobbed his final words._

 _"You might end up poking out someone's eyes out!," the tall man continued his morbid act, "Allow me to demonstrate." There was the punch line._

 _The man then drove both his thumbs into Darius' eyes, working through the balls and to the limits of the sockets. The bully's head spazzed as the digits worked themselves, twisting themselves deeper and deeper. Charles sat where he was, watching with a hand to his mouth. He wanted so badly to run, but he could barely find himself able to turn away. Something was keeping him there and it didn't seem like fear, but morbid curiosity and fascination…._

 _Darius' mouth hung open as his head lolled onto his shoulder. It wasn't expected that he was going to move it or anything else anymore._

 _The tall man then rubbed the blood and eye jelly from his gloved thumbs with elegant victory. He took Darius' butterfly knife and folded it in neatly with a flick from his fingers. It was at this point he finally noticed the shaking Charles. He raised an eyebrow and looked at him rather strangely._

 _He had stayed, he could've ran but he stayed. He had watched this man inflicted unspeakable horror on his long time tormentors and he possibly was going to do the same to him….but he didn't. The two stared at each other. In Charles' baby blue eyes; fear, intrigue, admiration. And the tall man stared back with pity, scorn….then sympathy and intent._

 _Then the tall man stretched out his arm, and offered his open hand to the young Ray._

* * *

The morning wasn't young anymore when Ozzy pulled up to the side of the dormitory. It was only minutes before the wave of early classes. The students hustled in and out of the doors. It was difficult to spot a window without the shades lowered or the lights off. Ozzy parked out by the building's side where the fire escape hugged it from the ground level to the fourth.

"Ok," he said, cutting the engine and undoing his seatbelt, "Shauna doesn't have class for thirty-ish minutes. You guys stay here." Chucky leaned on the door lazily in the passenger seat. His family was seated in the back.

"Just be quick about it," Chucky retorted, "We got places to be." Ozzy stepped out of his car.

"Really? Where?" Chucky shrugged.

"Don't know. I'm actually kind of making it up as we go along." _Well, that's reassuring._ Ozzy frowned.

"I'll be back," he called heading over to the dorm entrance.

"You fucking better be!" Chucky called after him.

* * *

 _Hi, who owns you?_ What the student RA of the all girls dorm had said to Ozzy just as he entered. He was still thinking ironically of it by the time he reached Shauna's room on the third floor. What kind of question was that to ask another human being? When he said that he was with Shauna, the RA gave him a nasty scowl before letting him in.

"Shauna!?" he half shouted while his closed hand smacked the door. The peep hole darkened briefly before the door opened.

Shauna was all set and ready for her a.m. class, book bag over her shoulder and all. It was one of those rare times when Ozzy came to her and she didn't smell like a gym bag.

"Oh, hi Ozzy! What are-" Ozzy quickly pushed her back into her dorm and sat her down on her bed in the single room. He quickly slammed the door shut behind him.

"Ahhh," smiled Shauna knowingly, "Sorry Ozzy, I don't have time for a morning quickie right now." She was the only one in the room in the laughing. Ozzy sat down next to her and hugged her tightly, resting his head in the crook of her neck.

"You're ok!" he cried, "God, I was so worried!" Shauna stopped laughing then and awkwardly returned the hug.

"Yeah….love you too…" she kissed his head as he let her go, "Jesus, Ozzy you're a mess! I think the bags under your eyes go all the way down to your chin. Did you even sleep last night? Is something wrong?" Ozzy took her hands in his, shakingly squeezing them.

"Shauna…" he breathed, _Oh fuck me, where to start?_ "So….do you believe in magic?" Shauna tilted her head.

"I...not really, why?"

"Oh boy," exhaled Ozzy, "Buckle your fucking seat belt and save all questions until the end…."

* * *

"Glenda if you want to listen to something then just pick a station and stick to it," Tiffany told her daughter fiddling with the car's radio. Glenda had probably scrolled through all the XM channels in one sitting.

"Might I recommend the operatic channels?" Lottie spoke.

"Ah fuck! I'm bored as shit!" cried Glenda, slamming her palm on the dial and silencing the music. She fell on her back on the driver's seat. The cloth seat absorbed her weight slightly. "I know! Let's play a game!"

"How about the quiet game?" Chucky and Lottie said together, "Jinx!" they pointed at each other, "You owe me a pack of licorice! No you!" Like father like daughter it seems.

"How about I spy?" Glen suggested harmlessly.

"You're on!" Glenda immediately pressed her face against the window, "I spy ….something that controls electricity."

Glen and Lottie instantly pointed to the grey box of switches on the building's side across from them. Wasn't exactly a hard find.

"Ok…." continued Glenda, "I spy….something that screams, 'Help! I have a major case of little man complex and severe micropenis!"

Lottie pointed to the yellow Hummer parked down the street from where they were.

"That was a bit too specific."

"Sweet! I spy….." Glenda suddenly squinted her eyes as she looked out the driver's window again, "Hmmm, I spy four dumb assholes in black trying to get into Shauna's dorm."

"Oh that's easy!" Glen pointed to the shady group of rather suspicious appearance roaming around the entrance. They just stood there, looking up at the building as if measuring its defenses….as if it had any.

"Wait, hold the fuck on, what?" Chucky climbed over the middle console and pushed Glenda from the window, "Shit! Shadow men!" He saw them just in time to see them disappear through the doors.

Chucky surveyed the building's side….a fire escape, an open air vent easily in their reach, and the fuse box which probably had a switch to the fire alarm….

"Tiff, Glen, Glenda, Lottie, outside right now," he commanded.

"Aw, right now?" moaned Glenda, "Can't we wait until they kill Shauna?"

"Now!" yelled Chucky and yanked open the driver's door. Followed by his family, they hustled over to the open air vent. He ushered them in one by one as they crawled inside the colorless metal tunnel.

"Hey!" Glenda called out as she crawled between her brother and younger sister, "This kind of reminds me of the Chuck E Cheese fun tunnels except there's no smaller kids to chase with a shiv and it smells like a rat's nest. Speaking of which, anyone ever seen a rat king?"

"I had a pet rat king once," said Glen, "His name was Marshall….he's a ghost now."

"I know I was there," Glenda lowered her head, "A moment of silence for Marshall…." She and Glen remained silent as they crawled on.

* * *

"...Uh huh," Shauna sat with her legs folded as Ozzy concluded. Truth be told, she seemed to be taking it better than expected, "You started smoking the Strawberry Cough again, didn't you, Ozzy?"

"Yes," Ozzy answered the rhetorical question honestly, "Wait, no! I'm dead serious! We're not safe here and we have to go now!"

"With the killer dolls?" Shauna joked and folded her arms, "I'm not sure what kind of weird game this is, but I'm not playing. I have that practical in thirty minutes and if I don't go then I get Saturday school and I think you know what that means."

"I'll be cursed with a two month dry spell…." Ozzy deadpanned, "Shauna, I get it. Everything seems a bit nuts right now, but-"

"The only thing that is nuts right now is you." Shauna shook her hands out of Ozzy's and stood up and began towards her door. Ozzy quickly stopped her.

"Shauna! I…." he lowered his voice, "Please….I'm just as confused as you are right now. But I'm also really fucking scared….I just need you right now. Whatever shit is going on now; living dolls, voodoo magic, or a creepy cult, I can't face it alone. All the kush in the world isn't enough to make me feel safe, but you are." Shauna could feel the pain in her boyfriend's gasping and voice cracks.

"Ozzy-"

There was suddenly an electrical buzz in the air, as if a car motor had been worked to the point of exploding. All the lights, both in the dorm room and the hallway outside fizzed before dying out. Some even popped as the filaments fried. Ozzy and Shauna gazed up at the ceiling.

"Please tell me that that's normal here…." Ozzy murmured.

"Usually is." Ozzy couldn't help but notice the uncertainty Shauna's tone presented.

* * *

"What the fu-OW! SHIT!" Chucky rubbed his head after slamming it against the vent ceiling, seconds after the building went dark.

"You ok, Chucky?" Tiffany asked from behind him.

"Yeah….just dandy. We need to hurry. They're making their move."

"HAHAHA!" Glenda pointed and laughed playfully at her father's misfortune. Lottie gave her an unamused look as usual. She suddenly pounded the metal beneath her and yelled.

"Oh my god! Glenda look! Something shiny!" she pointed over her older sister's head.

"WHERE!?" Glenda shot upwards from her crawling position. Sure enough, her head smashed against the vent ceiling. Her hands clutched her head as she fell onto her stomach.

"OW! FUCK ME IN THE ASS!"

"Oh no, Glenda, you missed it," chuckled Lottie. It was then her and Glen's turn to laugh. Chucky rolled his eyes at his kids' bickering. He could remember one time when Tiffany asked him why he was pro-choice. He simply answered this question by pointing to Glenda.

The family continued. The vent path inclined, indicating that they were going up a floor. At a certain point, Chucky could hear Ozzy's voice along with another one that sounded more feminine, they were getting close. They continued up one more incline before Chucky stopped them.

"We're either above the room or the hallway just outside," he judged, "We just need a quick way out of here…."

"Hey," Glenda suddenly stirred, poking at a large screw secured on the wall next to her, "I wonder if this is important."

"Wonder if what is important?" Chucky glanced back at his daughter, his eyes suddenly widened at what she was doing, "Wait! Glenda don't!"

* * *

"This is getting stupid," Shauna said, annoyed, "I can't miss this practical. You're welcome to come with me and wait outside in the hall. Maybe by then whatever nightmare high you're on right now will wear off."

"I'm not fucking tweaking!" cried Ozzy. Shauna just shook her head.

"This isn't funny anymore, Ozzy. Just sober the fuck up and see me then! Whatever bad high you're on I don't have time for!"

The ceiling above them suddenly buckled loudly as they jumped back startled. The drywall fell apart, ripped open like a huge sledge hammer struck it from the other side and it blew out completely. The square metal tube of the vent above fell and hung a couple meters from the floor. Out tumbled, or rather poured Chucky, Tiffany, then their children.

The dolls cried out as they fell on the floor in a pile, Chucky had the unfortunate privilege of being on the bottom.

"Ow….my back," he croaked out as his wife flopped alongside him.

"Mom….dad…." Glenda lay atop of her siblings, still holding the screw she found so fascinating.

"Yes, Glenda?" her parents growled with demonic possession.

"I think….that this screw was important."

"Hmmmm mmmmmm," Chucky and Tiffany growled together again.

"Hi Dreadie!" Glenda waved as she pulled herself off her brother and sister. She then glared at Shauna unimpressed, "Oh? Is this her? Nice to meet you, I'm Glenda, but you can call me 'Miss. Steal Yo Boi.'" Glenda extended her hand.

Shauna shrieked and staggered back.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE THOSE!?"

"SHAUNA! IT'S OK! IT'S CHILL!" Ozzy tried to restrain her, "THEY'RE JUST THE KILLER DOLLS!"

"THE KILLER DOLLS!?"

"YEAH! BUT THEY'RE MY KILLER DOLLS!"

"My?" Chucky tilted his head.

"Shauna! Just calm-"

"NO!" Shauna broke from her boyfriend's hold and quickly rushed towards the window behind her bed. The dolls had fallen right in front of the door and blocked her path. She fidgeted with the locks a bit before suddenly resorting to punching the glass, determined to get to the fire escape one way or another. Ozzy shook his head.

"Well, she's taking this nicely," he snorted to Chucky.

"Hey," Glenda approached Shauna by the window, who had managed to crack the glass at the most, "It's all good. Just-"

"FUCK NO!" Shauna's foot suddenly shot forward and collided with Glenda's gut. The doll flew back a couple feet and slid on the floor like a bowling ball right to her family's feet.

"She….packs a punch," wheezed Glenda, "Ooo, I think my left lung has stopped working. Quick! Dreadie! Come here, I need CPR!" She let out a fake cough.

Glen then stepped forward to Shauna, easy and slow. The window finally shattered as Shauna gave it one last blow with her bloody knuckles. A few tiny slivers were buried in her fingers and stung every time she moved them.

"Miss….Shauna," Glen timidly said followed by a bow, "It's ok….we're not here to hurt you." He knew that somewhere in the near future that that statement would be bullshit, but what mattered was now. Shauna's heavy breathing slowly subsided as Ozzy made his way next to her. Even when he wrapped his arms around her, she wouldn't take her eyes off Glen.

"You…." was all Shauna could seem to say, clinging to Ozzy like her sanity depended on it, "You're…."

The building was then suddenly flooded with the blaring of the fire alarm. Everyone in the room covered their ears until their sense of hearing adjusted to the robotic screaming.

"This isn't for a fire!" Chucky yelled to Ozzy, "Shadow men are here! We need to scram!"

"My cars outside! C'mon Shauna!" Ozzy rushed to the door alongside the family of dolls, not letting go of his girlfriend's hand. Shauna only cried out in question, but followed him. He yanked open the door as she dropped her book bag beside her.

"Well….fuck," Chucky deadpanned the second they poured out into the hallway.

The dorm was now empty. All the residents had either gone to class or evacuated, setting off the fire alarm and disabling the power is a tactic used by killers and serial killers in order to isolate or flush out their intended victim. Chucky knew this….as did the Shadow men.

The four of them stood, perfect posture like British soldiers and clad in all black, at the end of the hallway. Each had a ceremonial dagger in their gloved grasps like the one from Ozzy's apartment. And just behind them, on the wall, was the switch the fire alarm which had been pulled.

The Rays, Ozzy, and Shauna started right back at them. Some with wide eyes of fear and others with narrowed eyes of disdain and loathe.

"Osborne Wilkes, the Order of the Serpent demands your soul!" the Shadow Men chorused, almost too perfectly in unison.

"Ozzy…." whispered Shauna.

"Something tells me that I should get used to hearing that," gulped Ozzy.

"Glen get Ozzy and Shauna to the car. Make sure they don't leave." Chucky told his son and motioned to the fire escape in Shauna's room.

"Yes, dad." Glen gave a bow and quickly scurried back into Shauna's room followed by Ozzy and Shauna.

"Kiss-ass," Glenda spat as she withdrew a knife from her dress with a smiley face drawn on the blade with a sharpie. At that moment her younger sister and parents brandished knives of their own. You'd truly expect that to be coming from a family of psychos.

"So," Chucky spoke up to the Shadow Men, now coming towards them, "You gentlemen like jokes? I got one for ya! Four cunts walk into a girl's dormitory, right?"

"Oh Chucky, I think I heard this one before," laughed Tiffany.

"Then you know how it ends?"

"Yeah. Four cunts walk into a girl's dormitory….none of them leave!"

* * *

Ozzy, Shauna, and Glen made it back to the car. Shauna just sat in the passenger seat awkwardly, her constant staring at Glen resumed.

"My name's Glen," he said, seeing the curiosity in her eyes.

Shauna just nodded. Again awkward as can be.

"So…are you a believer now?" Ozzy asked smugly, "Not a trace of doubt in your mind?" Shauna gave him a really dirty look.

"Ozzy….are you for fucking real right now?" Ozzy just shrugged.

"Hard to say. What's real and not right now are still a little bit unclear to me." Shauna huffed at him before pressing her head against the window and fell silent, fists clenched at her sides. Ozzy recognized that gesture; tonight he's sleeping alone. Didn't matter now, Shauna was safe. He then glanced back up towards the window they had climbed out of.

"Your family ok up their, Glen?"

"Oh, absolutely." he nodded, not a trace of concern in his voice.

"I'd imagine it would be pretty hard to take down a fully grown man when you're like a little bit over three feet…."

"Hahaha," Glen laughed nervously, "You….you would be surprised."

* * *

"Blood! Blood! Mr. Happy thirsts for blood!" shouted Glenda, slamming her knife through the Shadow man's forehead. Through the exact same stab wound again and again. With each bloody stab the knife tip drilled deeper and deeper through the skull, trying to reach the brain. Wouldn't matter if it did though. The Shadow man had passed out from shock already. Right after Glenda side stepped around his legs and slashed his tenden he had fallen onto one knee. Glenda seized the opportunity and shanked him in the gut now that he was on her level, and Glenda would make sure he would go even lower.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA!" Chucky's tactic was more brutal than comedic. He had leaped up after a short running start and collided into the chest of a Shadow man, who fell on his back instantly. Chucky's weight and momentum had forced him down, those along with the punctured lung Chucky had given him in the brief moments of his fall. He didn't die instantly so Chucky was able to have a bit of fun. It's fair to say by the time he was done with him, the poor Shadow man's face was arranged like a Picasso painting of gore.

"Dad!" his youngest daughter called. Lottie was having a bit of a tussle with the Shadow man she faced. The man slashed and kicked at her, missing most of the time since Lottie was quick to moved out of the way, but he had managed to kick and send her flying against the wall. Lottie shook this off, took a calming breath, and came back on offense.

She slashed at the Shadow man's legs, her pattern was soon caught on to and the man was avoiding it, but he made the mistake of continuously staggering backwards. Chucky saw this.

"Got him, Lottie!" he yelled and quickly crept behind the Shadow man. Chucky then got on his hands and knees and braced. Sure enough, the back wards shuffling Shadow man tripped right over him. The good ol' table top.

Before Chucky got up, a knife came gliding across above him, sailing through the air. It found it's mark directly in the Shadow man's chest. Just as he was attempting to get up, he fell back down just as fast.

"Good one, Lottie!" praised Chucky, "I don't remember teaching you throwing!"

"Well," Lottie shrugged, "I learned it from watching you."

Unfortunately for Tiffany, she seemed to have gotten the most aggressive one of the Shadow man. He viciously struck at her all the while only making angry snarls and roars. Tiffany then cried out and managed to slash him across the face.

"RRRR! WENCH!" the Shadow man roared and smacked the knife from Tiffany's hand.

"No!" she reached out, but when she did her attacker hit her arm with a down slash. Tiffany screamed and clenched her now bleeding arm. She didn't have time to react when the Shadow man's forearm crashed into her face and knocking her down.

"LEAVE HER THE FUCK ALONE!" Chucky came from behind and jumped onto the Shadow man's back. He drove his knife directly between his deltoid. The Shadow man roared in pain, but didn't go down. He reached over his shoulder grabbed Chucky by the hair and slammed him down on the floor.

Chucky tried to get up but the Shadow man wrapped his hand around his neck and held him down.

"Damned one! Abomination!" he growled, bring his face close to Chucky's, "Deacon Burton commands your death! You and your festering sickness of a family! You're a dead man!"

Chucky growled, his voice croaky from the amount of oxygen he was being denied. _Deacon Burton…._ that triggered him though, like lemon juice to the wounds of the past….

"I know you are, but what am I?" he rasped and drew his head back and slammed it into the Shadow man's face. The man in black covered his face with both hands and Chucky was free.

The killer doll flipped his knife in his hand of scars and plunged it through the Shadow man's forehead. Not letting go of the hilt, Chucky rotated himself one eighty to his victim's back. He yanked back on the knife and held his head back.

"Tiffany! Now!" Chucky yelled. His wife quickly rose back up, clenching her bleeding arm. The Shadow man's fleshy neck was exposed just right and just like a stick of butter, it cut just as easy. Tiffany was graceful and clean with her movement. A waterfall of blood flowed down the man in black's clavicle. Not a crease or bubble within the fluid as it soaked into his clothes. He gurgled and groaned, as is the appropriate and often common response of those who just get their throats slit.

"Tiff!" Chucky cried, he took her sliced arm in his hands and held it gently, "Let me look at that!"

"It's ok, Chucky," his wife assured softly, "It's just a little scratch."

"No, that shit looks deep!" Chucky then ripped a small portion from one of the deceased Shadow man's jacket and improvised it as a wrap for the wound, "That should stop the bleeding…"

"Ah-ah," Tiffany playfully shoved her arm to Chucky's mouth, "Aren't you forgetting something?" Chucky raised an eyebrow then smirked.

"Oh, right." He then gave the bandage a light kiss, "There, all better." Tiffany laughed lovingly.

"Thank you, honey." Lottie laughed to herself as she watched her parents nearby. Seeing them drop the whole killer doll with unquenchable bloodlust act was rare. It's times like these where they really showed that they were in fact a little bit human.

"Lottie, where's Glenda?" Tiffany asked her daughter.

"Having a field day with the Shadow man." Lottie pointed.

Glenda had ripped away the Shadow man she claimed the life of's jacket and shirt and was carving furiously at his bare torso. Glee in her eyes and little demonic squeals in her laughter. Upon closer inspection, she had carved the words; 'Glenda was here' from the collarbone to a little bit past the belly button in scarlet chicken scratch letters. She also saw fit to throw in a little bonus. On the corpse's side, in smaller letters she had carved, 'Glen is a weeaboo'.

"K! All done!" Glenda cheered as she joined her family.

"Wow," montoned Lottie, "Well….at least you're not carving male genitalia anymore…."

"Who says I stopped?" laughed Glenda. Her family could remember the last couple Shadow men Glenda crossed paths with. By the time she was done with them, their chests and backs would make Seth from Superbad proud.

"We need to go," Chucky said, "Fire escape, now." He took his wife hand in his while his daughters followed.

 _Burton…_ Chucky's fist clenched with each mental recitation the name…. _Burton._

"Chucky?" Tiffany whispered to him, feeling his grip on her hand tighten.

 _Burton…._

* * *

"There you are," Ozzy unlocked his car's doors. As the dolls entered Shauna cautiously stared at them. What used to be fear was now morbid curiosity. Chucky noticed her looking at me.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," he humored.

"I just….have so many questions," said Shauna. Chucky waved her off.

"I'll gladly have a Q and A when I damn well feel like it." Ah yes, nothing like the smell of cranky Chucky in the morning.

"Where are we headed?" asked Ozzy, "Back to that warehouse of yours?"

"No," Chucky shook his head, "We left a trail that that the damn cult is following. It won't be long before they find it. We just have to keep moving."

"But where?"

"Just drive," Chucky ordered, "Just fucking drive….go over state lines if you have too. We need to get as far away from here as possible." Chucky pulled Tiffany to him, she rested her head on his chest as he held her.

Ozzy sighed as he pulled out onto the street. In the distance, he could hear the sirens of firetrucks and police cruisers. "Good enough for me," he said and started off.

"Shauna?" he reached for his girlfriend's hand, she swatted it away on the first couple times but finally let out a sigh and wrapped her fingers around his, "I'm happy you're here and that you're ok."

"Ozzy," breathed Shauna, there was a small smile across her face. She was still processing that everything he had told was true, but nonetheless knew he was right to come and get her. She didn't know what to say, so instead she just leaned over the middle console and kissed him.

The static of the radio wasn't enough to drown out the angry hissing Glenda sitting in the back seat. "Soon…." she whispered, "Soon." She licked her lips. Glen cringed at his twin.

"Mum, Glenda's doing wierd shite again!" he tattled.

"Oh!? So, I'm weird?" argued Glenda, "You're the weird one! Open your eyes, Glen! You're not a fucking samurai!"

"Ronin!" Lottie rolled her eyes.

"Glen, Glenda, you both make very valid points," she cut in, voice full of authority, "Glen, eventually this whole 'ronin' phase has to come to an end. And Glenda, you're a raging tornado of weirdness, stop it."

"I am too a Ronin!" Glen flashed his tantō, "I trained myself in the art of swordsmanship and nobility."

"Did you actually train yourself, Glen, or did you just binge watch anime one night and suddenly decided you wanted to be a ronin?" Lottie asked.

"...Yes."

It was going to be a long ride.


	5. Rest for the Wicked

**_AN: It's ok everyone, I'm still alive! Just took an unexpected hiatus, which actually probably isn't over. I tried going about the weekly updates but I don't think I'm gonna be able to come through on that. So instead, I'm just going to try to update monthly. I can't make any promises for December, but after January there will be much more frequent updates. As you'll soon find out I had a ball with this chapter. And I hope you do too._**

 _Nerves tend to work on their own without the brain's accord when a person is nervous, stressed, or in shock. Kind of like muscle spasms. Something as simple as an eye for finger twitch. For ten year old Charles Lee Ray, it seemed as if his entire body had been subjected to this. His pupils were dilated and his mouth quivered. The way his step mother looked at him moments before he dropped the hair dryer in the bathtub. There she was the woman who had been causing him pain, stole his father from him, and punished him relentlessly lying in the electrically charged water. Her eyes burned in her sockets and her mouth open in a scream of shock and terror._

 _The child just stood shivering in the doorway. What was he feeling? He had just killed someone….the ultimate evil. Regret? Guilt? Sadness? No, the young Ray wasn't feeling any of that._

 _He felt liberated, he felt a rush unlike anything before. More importantly, he felt powerful. So powerful that his body didn't know how the hell to respond. Was his body vibrating telling him that he should stop or was it demanding more?_

 _Charles suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. He knew who it was….his friend….the tall man._

" _Good, little one, good….." he praised._

" _W-what happens now?" Charles never looked up at him when he spoke._

" _You come with me, my child. This is just the beginning." The tall man ushered him out of the bathroom._

" _Where are we going?"_

" _Home….Chucky, my boy."_

 _Charles smiled as the man took his hand in his._

 _No one had ever called him that before, and he rather liked it….._

* * *

The sun skipped across the sky as the day drove on, much like Osborne, Shauna, and the Ray family had been doing. All down the southern tip of California, far far away from the city of angels, or rather Shadowmen. The road trip had been full of the awkward silences, dispute over radio stations, and the occasional 'he's touching me/she's touching me' bit usually perpetrated by Glen and Glenda.

When their father wasn't snoozing, he was talking. Shauna's express train of questions finally stopped when Chucky began telling them things….a whole lot of things; a shootout, a toy store, an apartment, a single mother with a child, a fire, more gunshots, a foster home, a toy factory (Chucky shuddered oddly as he told this portion of his story), a machine of limbs, boiling plastic lava, a military school, a carnival, a fan, and then Tiffany. It didn't stop there; a trailer home, fresh victims and intent, a van, a wedding, a cemetery, betrayal, gunshots once more, Hollywood, a son and daughter, Jennifer Tilly, voodoo pregnancy, insanity, a hospital, an axe, years later, a second daughter, a family, a cripple….It didn't matter where it would start or end, a hefty body count was always present. Ozzy exhaled, one of disbelief and morbid fascination.

"That's fucked up….Charles, huh?" he used his real name. Chucky could only nod in agreement.

"I don't make the rules, I just play the game," he said, "Also for shit's sake, Ozzy, the shoulder of the road isn't supposed to be driven on!" He pointed out the obvious turbulence the car experienced as Ozzy turned back onto the densely populated road. Damn, second time this has happened.

"Yeah….right," the Acolyte yawned, "I'm fucking tired as shit. I've been driving all day and we don't even know where we're going. Can we stop somewhere?"

"We don't until I say so." Chucky shook his head. Tiffany, breaking her conversation with Shauna, put a hand on her husband's shoulder.

"Chucky, maybe we should stop someplace, at least for the night. We've had a long day."

"Yeah, dad!" chimed in Glenda, "I'm getting car sick over here. I want out!" Glen and Lottie agreed. Chucky rolled his eyes.

"What the hell are we supposed to do? Come across a Holiday Inn and check into a room?" All heads in the car slowly shifted over to him, "Ugh! Fine. We're probably far enough anyway. It would be awhile before we're found again."

"I'm down," Ozzy announced, "But under a few conditions."

"Humor us then," Chucky smirked.

"No killing me or Shauna in our sleep…."  
"Fuck!" Glenda pounded her fist on the seat. Shauna scowled at her. Over time the two had developed a rather intense dislike for each other for obvious reasons. With Shauna's anger and Glenda's psychosis, it was hard to tell which one was the bigger time bomb.

"And no depositing other people's sperm in each other while they sleep." Tiffany folded her arms, seeing how that was directly aimed at her. Ozzy had never seemed to let her off the hook when Chucky told them about the Jennifer Tilly episode. Needless to say it disturbed him greatly. Chucky even had a part in it and even he cringed a little when the topic was brought up.

"Does fucking count?" asked Chucky, a bit too seriously. Ozzy glanced at him oddly, then to Tiffany who gave him a fake innocent wave back. _And now, the image is burned in my head forever…..yay._

"What? No...wait...yes."

"It's cool though, I pull out."

"Dad, I love you with all my heart," Lottie said kindly, "But I really do not want to hear about the sexual escapades that you and mom share."

"Second that." Glen said.

"Third that." Glenda rose a hand.

"Just stop!" Ozzy shouted, "No one is putting any sperm in anyone while I'm here!"

"Are you sure about that?" Glenda purred, in his ear. Shauna swatted her away.

"Yes, we are," the skater girl hissed. Glenda eyed her evilly and folded her arms.

* * *

Convenience was on their side that night. They had managed to come across a Super 8 not too far within the outskirts of a small undisclosed Californian town. It wasn't a Marriott courtyard, but it also wasn't a Best Western, so it flew. There weren't a whole lot of cars out front. In fact the only vehicle in the lot belonged to the person managing the office during the late hours.

When Ozzy parked his car out by the rooms, Chucky was quick to leave the car. He returned minutes later just as everyone else was getting out, twirling a key ring on his middle finger smoothly.

"I checked us in," he handed a key to Ozzy, "You and Shauna get this room and we'll get this one." He kept a key to himself.

"Oh, thanks," Ozzy smiled before studying the key in his hand briefly, his mouth shifted into a frown then he looked down at Chucky.

"What? There a problem?" the doll asked.

"They're dead, aren't they?" deadpanned Ozzy, unamused. Chucky played dumb.

"Who, now?"

"The guy in the office, whoever it was, is dead, right? I'm going to walk in there and I'm going to find them face down in their own blood with a stab wound in the chest, aren't I?"

"Well…." Chucky shrugged, "I'm not saying that I killed anyone….but I'm also not saying that I didn't let let anyone live either."

Ozzy sighed and waved him off. He walked over and peaked through the doorway of the motel office. Immediately his face fell and again looked at Chucky in disappointment.

"Why do you do these things, Chucky?"

"You weren't entirely right," laughed Chucky, "I didn't stab him in the chest, I went for the groin. Lot's of blood there just waiting to bleed out."

"I didn't know that and I didn't need to know that…" sighed Ozzy, "You better have a plan for this."

"Course I do, I'm gonna dismember it in the bathtub."

"Cool! Can I help?" Glenda begged her father.

"Whatever, enjoy your little freakshow," Ozzy swung his messanger bag of cannabis over his shoulder, "I'm headed to my room, you know where to find me. You coming, Shauna?"

Shauna didn't say anything, she just followed her boyfriend to their room on the ground level. That left the Ray family alone with the stiff in the office.

"Well, it ain't gonna move itself," Chucky laughed.

Glenda was quick to rummage through the corpse's' pocket. Seconds later, she was holding up the deceased's wallet like a trophy. It only had six bucks on hand, but there was a teller machine just outside.

"Use the ATM and empty his account?" Glenda grinned upon producing a Visa debit card. Chucky nodded.

"Use the ATM and empty his account."

* * *

"Would you believe that I still think I might wake up soon?" Shauna was pacing around the room, something she did when she felt stressed. Better than the former alternative she had of putting holes in the wall. Ozzy just sat on the one queen sized bed and laid back, hands behind his head.

"That's a good mindset to be in right now," he joked. Shauna sat beside him.

"It's all true isn't it? Do you really think that you can...you know...end the world?" Ozzy glanced at the birthmark on his wrist.

"Actually, I don't. I summon a fucking snake god from another dimension that does it….that's what Chucky says."

"Doesn't that scare you? At all? Knowing that with a literal flick of the wrist, everyone dies? And that's another thing. You really seem to trust this 'Chucky' guy."

"I'm scared, Shauna," Ozzy wrapped an arm around her, "Believe me, I'm scared of the Shadow men, this whole 'acolyte' deal, and Chucky...but he's keeping us alive and he knows more than we do...isn't that enough?"

"He's not exactly the good guy here, Ozzy," Shauna said. Her boyfriend laughed a little. _Must….not make joke...about him being a good guy doll._

Ozzy reached over and grabbed his bag on the foot of the bed. The second he opened it, the unmistakable scent of cannabis decorated the small room. He took out a previously unopened plastic bag filled to the seal.

"Are..is that what I think it is?" Shauna stood up.

"Hey, I've been clean all day….I deserve this after the shit I've been through. You want to get in on this? Given our situation, we could use a little drift here." Shauna couldn't help but giggle. Classic Osborne at his finest.

"Maybe later," she answered, "I'm gonna make a phone call, tell my professors that I might be out for a few days. I'll be in the office, I think I left my phone at my dorm…."

"Sure thing," nodded Ozzy.

As Shauna was about to leave, her boyfriend quickly got up and wrapped his arms around her from behind, "Hey," he kissed her cheek, "Love you…." he said in a sing song voice. Shauna caressed his face.

"Don't I know it?" she harmlessly retorted as he let her go.

Seconds after she left, Chucky with his son and oldest daughter entered the room. They had just stored the manager's body in their own room next door, planning to go Tell Tale Heart on it with a fire axe later that night. Tiffany and Lottie were in that same room getting settled in.

"Dreadie! We're-hey, what is that?" Glenda pointed over to his open bag.

"It's the cure for Zika, what do you think it is? It's my weed." Ozzy had sat down again and took out rolling papers and filters, "I'm having a little smoke session right now."

"Ooooh," Chucky smirked, "Are we interrupting something?"

"Not at all….you can be here if you want….my room is your room, I guess." Ozzy shrugged. Chucky heaved himself up on the bed.

"I want to hit," he demanded.

"Dad, since when were you cool?" Glenda giggled, who now sat on the nightstand beside Ozzy.

"Um...usually I have people put in…." Ozzy hinted.

"I put my ten year old daughter through the mail in order to get you here and helped you save your girlfriend, I'd say I've already put in." Ozzy could read that somewhere in there was a hidden threat.

"Ok, I'll allow it."

"I'm also in," said Glenda, "What about you Glen?" she asked her brother.

"I...don't know. I've never…." Glen Ray, the most innocent person in his family.

"Bro, some ronins use weed to help them meditate. Pretty sure they also use it in tea." Glenda Ray, the bullshit breathing dragon.

"I don't know….Dad what do you think?" Chucky however was already rolling a joint alongside Ozzy. He awkwardly looked at his son.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't realize we were going to argue about this." In this scenario Chucky couldn't care less. You think that murder is the only illegal thing he teaches his kids? Glen gave a defeated sigh.

"What kind of shit you got, Dreadie?" Glenda asked.

"You guys are in luck. I'm actually about to try this new strain I picked up last week, super excited. Here, Chucky, check it." Ozzy opened the ziplock and held it over Chucky's mouth and nose like a gas mask.

"Damn, that's potent….what is that?"

"Child's play, it's called," answered Ozzy.

* * *

"Wait, wait! You're….you're telling me that you and Glen shared the same body!?" Glenda hung upside down over the end of the bed while Chucky was beside Ozzy, sitting with his legs crossed, which is actually pretty adorable to imagine considering his stubby doll legs.

"Yeah….I always thought of myself as his evil side back then...wait, hang on, there's a cloud in front of me," she blew at the air until the smoke, be it a small amount, faded away, "but yeah, two souls in one body, right? Constantly vying for control…."

"Oh my god, Glenda!" Ozzy laughed, " It's like he was Jekyll and you were his Hyde….or the Hulk! Damn, that's cool! Speaking of which, how does Glen look?"

Chucky, after ripping the joint and passing it to Ozzy, glanced to the floor where his son was lying. Glen was glancing up at the ceiling air vent like it was the monolith from A Space Odyssey. It must've felt that his eyelids felt like weights at this point, because that's what it looked like. Glenda poked in a couple of times.

"He looks demolished, Dreadie." The Acolyte shook his head.

"How'd that happen….he just took like two puffs."

"Hey!" Glen stirred and pointed up to the air vent cover, "The ceiling has gills!" Chucky, Glenda, and Ozzy all looked up at it extremely unamused. The bulb inches away really brought out the redness in all their eyes with its light.

The door opening was duly noted. Enter Shauna, back from her phone call and Tiffany with Lottie.

"Chucky we-" Tiffany suddenly stopped in her tracks, eyebrow raised, she raised her head and gave a whiff of the air. Well, actually she didn't need to. A layer of smoke the size of the Imperial Star Destroyer hugged the ceiling above them. Shauna casually walked in and sat beside Ozzy.

"It's all good at school," she told him, "Told them I went home for the weekend; family emergency." She took the nearly finished joint from her boyfriend's fingers, then performed an attractive french inhale, "Goddamn," she exhaled roughly, "Indica?"

"Sativa," smiled Ozzy, "Sleep through day and we play all through the late night."

"Chucky, what the hell are you doing?" Tiffany folded her arms. Glenda quickly sat up, while Chucky beckoned to his wife. Glen could only manage to turn his head in his mother's direction.

"Tiff, babe! C'mere!" he opened his arms as if expecting a hug, "I'm just here with my main man, Osmosis Jones." He pointed to Ozzy, who gave Tiffany a friendly wave.

"Hi, Mrs. Ray!" Tiffany just put her hands on her hips and frowned. Lottie gave Glen a light kick in his side.

"Glen, you ok?" she asked her brother. Glen answered the question by slowly raising his arm up and gave the two finger peace sign. Lottie patted him on the head and let him be.

"Chucky…." Tiffany continued to loom over her husband, arms folded, until he gave in.

"I know, I know what you're gonna say, but c'mon Tiff, they're sixteen! I mean, you started when you were fourteen, and those were cigarettes!" Tiffany had quit smoking entirely when they had children, but damn, back in the day she could puff like a locomotive, as Chucky recalls it.

"Taste for tobacco? I could get you a spliff," Ozzy offered innocently.

"I don't want a spliff, Ozzy," deadpanned Tiffany. Ozzy shrugged.

"It's still out there, it's an option."

"Don't be mad, mum," Glenda playfully hugged her mother, "I'm ok! I can even say the alphabet backwards! Um….uh…..Glen! Do the alphabet thing!" she hissed to her brother.

"Z, Y, X, W, V-" Glen gained back the ability to speak. He pronounced 'z' as 'zed', spoken like a true Brit.

"See! Totally ok!" Tiffany look unconvinced, but couldn't help laughing at it. Chucky suddenly pulled her into his lap.

"Relax, Tiff! Things are going our way now! We have the Acy-I mean Ozzy," he pointed to him, Ozzy flashed the evil eye sign, "The cult doesn't know where we are….at least not yet. And, and, you're gonna love this one," Chucky placed his head on Tiffany's shoulder, just beside her neck.

"And, what?" Tiffany still had her arms folded and tried to look opposing, but it really wasn't going her way. Her voice cracked as she tried holding back grins and the like.

"And I got a beautiful lady in my arms," Chucky kissed the base of her neck before working his way up to her cheek. _Smooth as butter._ Tiffany laughed and embraced him. If there were a studio audience, they be going 'aw'.

"Mom! Dad!" now, Glenda can add 'the mood' to the ever growing list of things she's killed, "I'm hungry!"

"It'll do that," nodded Ozzy, "I guess we could send someone to the vending machine downstairs."

"Fuck that, Dreadie, I want real food." Glenda shook her head, "Can you drive us somewhere?"

Glen raised a hand in suggestion.

"Not a sushi bar," Glenda said as if on cue. Glen booed as his hand fell.

"There was a town not far back, we'll see what they have there. You in too, Chucky?"

"Oh yeah, that'd be great…." hummed Chucky, "Let me just moisten my eye…."

The killer doll then slid his fingers around one of his blue eyes, the one on the side of his face where the scars had not been kind to. He twisted it around a couple of times before pulling it from the socket with a little pop. Like a gumball, he popped it in his mouth causally. He swirled it around for a little bit like a jawbreaker then paused. Chucky then spat it out in his hand, a line of spit connected from his lip to the eyeball. He then squeezed it back into its original socket. Once inside, he blinked a couple of times to reorient it.

"Ok, we can go now."

* * *

"Work all night on a drink of rum!"

"Daylight come and me wanna go home!"

"Stack bananas until the the morning come!"

"Daylight come and me wanna go home!"

While Ozzy and the twins had their chorus there, Shauna at the wheel took them through the town main streets following a successful raid on a California Pizza Kitchen. The feasting couldn't wait until they got back to the motel. In the car, Glen, Glenda, Ozzy, and Chucky had collectively gone through two of the five Margarita pies they had. Apparently living in the body of a doll didn't decrease the size of their appetites. Shauna shortly joined in the snacking before being followed by Lottie and Tiffany. Tiffany, no longer believing that she could control the situation, surrendered. Lottie was just pleased to see her family together like that; joking, laughing, loving. Even if it was brought on by a shady dude and his jock girlfriend, little moments like these counted. As for Chucky, he wasn't visible in the car.

"Daylight come and me wanna go home!" As the three 'singers' finished the song with laughter, Lottie rolled down the window next to her and stuck a Margarita slice, the last one of the box, out.

"It's the last one for now!" she called out.

"Much appreciated!" Chucky reached down from where he was lying on the roof of the car.

He had been up there since the return trip began for no apparent reason. The notorious slasher that is Chucky had a knack for doing reckless, but laughable things. A knack that he had carried over from his younger years to adulthood. If you're picturing this in your head, then Chucky's hair flowing behind him in the wind speed of twenty miles per hour is pretty majestic, is it not? The drive was quite peaceful. The many storefronts with blackened interiors, peopleless sidewalks, and dimming streetlights. The nights in the summer are always ones where you want to be awake. Mother nature always turning the thermostat of the globe to the most perfect setting and just leaving it be.

"Woah! Stop the car!" Chucky suddenly pounded on the roof. Shauna, sports star reflexes getting the better of her, slammed on the break. The car came to a stop, but Chucky sure as hell didn't. The moment the tires stopped, he flew off the car and directly face planted into a stop sign. He groaned as he comedically slide down the red octagon and onto his back.

"Still conscious!" He held his stitched thumb up to the car.

"What's the deal, Chucky?" Ozzy stood over him. Chucky pointed.

"Look! They have fountains!" Just next to where they had stopped, was a plaza. A gap between the buildings with a concrete flooring and a small section of chairs and tables. In the middle of it all, was a stone fountain. The head in the middle of the pool was a metal portrayal of bronze birds perching on the branches of a tree. The water flow was shut off during these late hours, but the pool beneath was full. Like the rest of the streets they had passed through, no one was in sight. Just the light of the streetlamps and the occasional squirrel or bird passing through. Ozzy glanced at it uninterested.

"Yeah, so?"

Chucky pulled himself up and rushed over to the fountain. He stood over the coin bottomed pool before belly flopping into the water. The doll breached the surface, his red hair now damp and straight hugged the back of his neck and shoulders.

"Free pool," he mused as he back stroked around. Ozzy snickered at Chucky's very much intact childish nature in his swimming. Shauna covered her mouth with a case of her own giggles. She and Chucky's wife and kids had followed them to the plaza.

"Water's fine, get your assess in here!" Chucky floated with his hands behind his head, plastic floats, remember? "Haha, look at this! I'm a boat!"

"A boat that's about to be sunk! Swan dive!" Glenda kicked off her shoes and climbed on the fountain brim and belly flopped directly onto her father. Chucky could be heard yelling out before Glenda crashed down. The father and daughter submerged with a splash only to remerge seconds later, laughing up a storm. Glenda was latched onto Chucky's back, pulling at his shoulders.

"Hey! C'mere!" Chucky reached around and pulled his daughter off him. Glenda squealed happily as he lifted her over his head and tossed her into the water.

"Cannonball!" Chucky didn't have a chance to celebrate when Glen suddenly splashed down beside him and tackled him, or rather attempted to. Glenda struck back again, hugging her father's side and trying to force him down.

"It's gonna take more than that!" Chucky laughed as he twisted about, death rolling like a crocodile. Dunking his laughing children in and out of the water.

"Yeah, it is! Lottie get over here!" Glenda waved to her younger sister.

"Bring it!" Chucky challenged her. Lottie cracked her fingers with a confident hum.

"Hahaha, you won't see me coming, dad!" She, after a small running start, Lottie was able to jump over the fountain brim and dive into the water. Her splash was noticeably smaller and softer, judges would probably have given it a solid seven. She didn't resurface though. The water couldn't hide her mischievous smirk. With Glen and Glenda distracting their dad above the surface, Lottie remained below. She darted to her father's legs and hugged them together.

"Ah!" Chucky lost balance and fell. As he sat vulnerable and struggling, his kids apprehended him, and by that I mean that they all fought against him in the most adorable way.

Ozzy and Shauna just watched them go at it by the sideline. Jumping out of the way of any splashes that came their way. Ozzy eventually got hit in the most noble way possible; jumping in front of his girlfriend to shield her. Tiffany stood close by the fountain. She had a hand over her mouth, but her smile was too long for her hand to conceal. Funny thing though is that she wasn't trying to hold back laughter….

"3, 2, 1! You're out!" called Glenda.

"Ok, ok, you all win!" Chucky laughed before embracing his children close. Their laughter both maniacal and childish slowly died down, but their amused smiles remained. They all sighed as they ceased their splashing. Ozzy sat his bag down then began slipping off his shoes. He was able to catch Shauna looking at him weirdly as he stepped into the fountain. Being obviously taller than the family of dolls, the water only reached his knees, that is until he sat down, careful to not get his dreads wet.

"You do realize that I am not letting you in bed with those wet clothes, right?" Shauna looked down at him.

"Not a problem, there's that fat heater in our room, we'll just put them on there for the night, besides," Ozzy motioned to his girlfriend to move closer to him, "It's not like we got to bed with anything on."

"Mmmmm, that's what I'm talking about." Unfortunately Glenda heard that and hummed dreamily to herself. Glen and Lottie just awkwardly shifted away from her.

"Scoot over," and Shauna slid into the shallow pool besides Ozzy, who put his head on her shoulder.

"That's my girl," he whispered to her. Chucky shook his head at the two.

"And then there was one…." he waded over to where Tiffany stood just outside the fountain with her arms folded.

"No," she shook her head, "No, not going in. Uh-uh."

"C'mon, Tiff, please?" Did Chucky just attempt to muster up puppy eyes? Would that be horrifying or cute?

"Nope," Tiffany was persistent.

"Show some love, c'mon."

"Chucky, no."

"Please?"

"No, stop it."

"Mom, you should." Lottie was suddenly next to Chucky, trying to mimic his begging stare and doing a far better job.

"I'm perfectly fine with staying here." Tiffany was final.

"Oh ok," Chucky shrugged, "I guess that means you don't want this spectacular diamond ring I found just now…."

"Huh?" _No, Tiffany, don't do it. You're smarter than this._

"Yeah, it's right here," Chucky held out his hand. Tiffany leaned in to get a closer look.

"Where-AH!" She cried out when her husband suddenly stood up and bear hugged her. He then fell back onto his back into the water. Tiffany was crying out the entire time. Ozzy and Shauna chorused in their own version of 'dayum'.

"Hahahaha!" Chucky came up laughing while Tiffany had to contend with her now running make up. With no hope of saving it, she just wiped it all away with her white sleeve. It didn't matter, she was still beautiful without it.

"Not funny, Chucky," she grumbled, wringing out her hair.

"Oh good, so you'll stay?"

"Don't have much of choice now….but at least you were right about the water being nice."

"When have I ever been wrong about something?"

Tiffany opened her mouth to talk.

"Wait, don't answer that." Chucky covered her mouth.

This earned laughter from all around, even from Shauna, who hadn't done a whole lot since she had left her dorm. Ozzy's laughter was the last one to die down. One of his signature trademarks, long drawn out snickers, maybe from the herb.

"Who are you, Ozzy?" Chucky suddenly asked him. Ozzy tilted his head.

"What do you mean? You know me already…"

"No," Chucky rephrased, "Like what do you do? Where are from? You got a family? You know, that jazz." His family all eyed Ozzy in interest. Guess they wanted to know too.

"Well, I'm just a freelance artist just looking to get noticed or something, I guess."

Ozzy reached over and took his sketchbook out from his bag, carefully hovering it over the water. He offered it to Chucky, who accepted. The slasher flipped through the pages. Occasionally he would give an impressed whistle at some of them. He'd also let Tiffany and his kids get a few looks.

"All these are yours?" Tiffany asked.

"Yeah, not too many are commissions from my site, so I just free draw whenever. Maybe post them up on Ebay here and there."

"Oh damn, I like this one," Chucky had flipped to the page with the Giger Serpent in its penciled glory. Ozzy had never gotten around to color it, but it was Giger, it's supposed to be grey and black anyway.

"That one," Ozzy nodded, "Yeah, I drew that one time I went with Shauna's science class to the aquarium, mind you that I was super, super baked at the time. And there was an exhibit with sea snakes, that and I had binged the _Alien_ series the previous night…so, yeah, Giger sea snake." Chucky snapped his fingers.

"Oh right, _Alien_. I remember when it came out. Remember that, Tiffany? How we played hooky from school, snuck into the theater and saw it?" Tiffany chuckled at the memory.

"Yes I do. We were eleven or twelve at the time. I think that may have been our first movie date."

"You two have known each other that long?" Shauna gasped. Tiffany nodded.

"Thirty nine years and counting, and he's made everyday worth living for me. Who would've thought? From sneaking into R rated movies to having three beautiful children?"

She glanced at Glen, Glenda, and Lottie lovingly. The kids just blushed and put on their best 'oh stop it you' faces.

"And to loitering in fountains with a stoner and his girlfriend?" Ozzy finished. Everyone laughed this up, first at what had been said then at the situation itself. Five killer dolls just chilling causally with two people they had just met in a fountain. Was the laughter and smiles because of that or that they were just happy to be able to share this delinquency together? Tomorrow those five dolls could turn on those two people, but no thoughts were given to that.

"Chucky, personal question here?" Ozzy sort of raised his hand from the water, making a sloshing noise to get his attention.

"Fire away." Chucky mimicked a gun going off with his hand.

"Back when in the warehouse, when I met you, you said that this thing between you and the shadow men is personal. What do you mean by that?"

At this moment, Chucky felt his fist clench beneath the water. Not according to his own command, but out of reflex. A reflex of anger. But he was quick to boil down. His family gave him concerned looks seeing his brow viciously furrow. Ozzy and Shauna paused in confusion.

"It's a long, long story," Tiffany took Chucky's hand in her own as he began, "So, I guess the best way is from the start...Do you think I'm a good man, Ozzy?" Ozzy scoffed at first, thinking it a joke, but Chucky expected a straight answer.

"To be honest, and I feel weird saying this, but yes and no. I mean….you hurt people, you're a murderer. All those stories you told me and what you have done. You're not exactly a good person. You're a psychopath. But right now, I'm seeing you here with me and your family; laughing and dicking around, so you're clearly capable of emotion and judgement. I mean, you must have been a good man at one point in your life."

"No," Chucky looked down, "I was never a good man, but I was a good boy, a good friend, and a good son…."

Ozzy and Shauna leaned in towards him while Glen, Glenda, and Lottie huddled around each other. They had heard this before, and it's always just as hard to hear it again.

"Damn, it seems like another lifetime….what was there to say? I loved life. My father said that I was born with just the 'natural drive to make the world a better place', and it sure as fuck felt that way….but if you're looking for the short answer version; it all comes down to the Cult….and Burton," Chucky audibly growled when he said that name, "Ivan Burton…."

"Is he a shadow man too?" Ozzy wondered.

"More than that, he's their leader, the Deacon of the Cult….and he was the Lakeshore Strangler before I was," Chucky's face dropped here as he squeezed Tiffany's hand for more comfort, "When I was around Lottie's age, a little bit after my dad died, bone marrow cancer by the way I had nothing to do with it, I was left with my step mom and god damn; there's bitches, then there's crazy bitches, then finally there's her. We lost money and we had to move away. Tiffany was the only good thing that happened to me there. Wherever we were, it wasn't the life that I had come to love. It didn't matter where I was; school, home, I was always getting a bruise somewhere on me. Then the cutting started, not by my own hands of course, I have my step mom and a couple kids who had it out for me of school to thank for that. Then one day, I met Ivan Burton."

"He could've killed me right there and then, but I think he saw right through me. Saw the little vulnerable kid I was; trying to be goody goody to the world in hopes it would do the same for me or maybe because he saw a little bit of himself in me." Ozzy saw where Chucky was going.

"He….made you a killer, didn't he?"

"I asked him if he could make it all go away," Chucky explained, "my stepmother, people who might want to hurt me. I asked him if he could help me just make all the hate go away. He told me he couldn't, but I can….starting with my stepmother. And holy shit, it felt good, so good. I think that was the one time in her life when she looked at me seriously. I've just seen so many people hurt me and I decided that I wanted to hurt them back really, really badly. And I haven't stopped since that day….and I probably never will."

"And Burton?"

"He took me in, showed me everything; how to kill and get away with it, got me into Damballa voodoo….everything. I had a father who loved me again. Then things started to get a little 'fucky'. Ivan started to get way into the Damballa religion. He started reading into it more and before long he built a church, the Order of the Serpent. He wanted me to be a part of it….fuck, the things that man made me do and what he did to me. The last few years I was with him were torture and I think that was his intention. Burton drained everything out of me and just filled me back up with nothing but hate. Everything I look at I just want to kill…."

"What happened?"

"Let's just say he crossed some lines. Lines that should never ever be crossed…." You know something must be horrifying if even a slasher has standards against it, "I ran and went out on my own, got a voodoo instructor, and the Lakeshore had a new strangler. I was killing on my own for my own purpose. Years later he finds us in California living as the Tillys. Tiffany and the kids ditched their human bodies and fled with me. Then we find out he's looking for someone called the Acolyte of Damballa. That's why we came for you Ozzy, if we do the whole doomsday prophecy before Burton and the Cult does, then we can finally get rid of him, plus it would be the murder of a lifetime. Before I left him he said that he would wipe out my entire bloodline. My wife and kids are in danger as long as he is alive."

"Why not just find him and do it yourself?" Shauna asked.

"I…." Chucky couldn't find the words to express it, "I….don't want my kids to grow up fatherless." _My god, Chucky the killer doll feels fear after all._

"You know that it doesn't have to be like this," Ozzy offered, "Do you really want me dead that bad?" Chucky exhaled.

"Ozzy, I honestly don't think I can answer that right now." His family gasped. Not the answer that Ozzy and Shauna were looking for, but it would do for the moment, "You're a good kid, and part of me (be it a small one) is sorry that you had to be dragged into all this." Not gonna lie, Chucky being nice is actually kinda fucking spooky.

"Ha, I actually never thanked you for saving my life the last few times….so thanks, Chucky."

"Naw, naw, don't remind me. It's fine." Chucky laughed, got up, and stretched his back, "Well, good midnight swim session, I'm think I'm about ready to head back, any of you too?" His answer came when everyone stood up in the water and climbed out of the fountain.

"Hey Dreadie," Glenda called as she wrung out her hair, "Maybe when we get back to the motel you can draw me like one of your French girls."

"Maybe later, Glenda," Ozzy said awkwardly, trying to wave her off. Shauna just continued to seethe at the oldest Ray daughter.

"No Glenda," Lottie nudged her sister, "The world is not yet ready for erotic art of you." You know something, she was right.

* * *

"There must be something here that can tell us where they went!" a Shadow man yelled to his comrade as they rummaged through Shauna's dorm during the late hours. The fire escape had served as their entrance. The police had already come and gathered the remains of the deceased ones, but they were not concerned for that.

"Hey," one of them was looking beneath her bed, "What about this?" He had discovered Shauna's phone, which she had left in the haste of leaving.

And just for shits and hoots, she had recently downloaded the 'find my iphone app'.


	6. Rest for the Wicked Part II

Kind of like how this story began, Osborne sat alone. This time outside of his and Shauna's room on the second (and top) floor of the motel they took refuge at with the Rays. Said motel had those convenient dingy chairs outside each room.

Ozzy was letting nature dry his wet clothes. The mid 70 degrees Californian night served as the spin cycle he needed. Shauna was in their room showering, he would head back in when she was done. Plus, he found an unfinished and untouched joint in his shirt pocket, unharmed from the fountain. They must've missed it during their smoke session. Ozzy played with it in his fingers until he decided that mama Wilkes didn't raise no quitter and sparked it up. His high soon jumped started once more.

Next to the Acolyte was the room where the Rays had set up shop. They had been quiet since they arrived back. Knowing them though, Tiffany would probably have taken up home making (seeing how her matriarchy is the family's only sanity anchor), Glen was probably passed out and asleep by now and Chucky and Glenda were most likely commencing the dismemberment of the body they had in their bathroom. The unseen probably knew what Lottie was up to, hard to get a read on what that girl is thinking with her face of stone.

At that moment, the Ray's door opened, _oh speak of the devil._

"Yo, Lottie," Osborne greeted with a nostril exhale.

"Osborne," she acknowledged him. Chucky's youngest daughter had taken off the one set of clothes she had on in the fountain and wore one of the complimentary bathrobes courtesy of the motel. Of course, the one size fits all only applies to humans. The white sleeves engulfed her arms completely, even hiding her hands. The robe draped to the floor and slithered behind her as she walked about. You know, she kind of looked like the little King of Hearts from Wonderland in his oversized garb. Ozzy silenced a snicker but Lottie continued to look unamused.

"I was about to shower…" she explained, " but Dad and Glenda are about to play chop shop in ours."

"...You can wait out here if you want," Ozzy told her. Lottie accepted and sat down beside him, heaving herself up on the chair outside of her family's room.

Just then, Glenda suddenly emerged from the Ray's room. Her dress was still soaked in fountain water, but some places (her sleeves mostly) were damp with blood.

She didn't look at her sister or Ozzy. She just shuffled over to the fire axe on the wall and yanked it off.

"We need this for reasons," she quickly said, then hastily returned to her room. Lottie and Ozzy could still hear her when she was inside.

"Hey dad, I got the axe! You ready to go Paul Bunyan on this shit!?" Within minutes they soon heard Chucky and Glenda loudly singing 'I'm a Lumberjack' from Monty Python. Judging by the gorey sounds of flesh being ripped and bones being crushed, they had got to work. Lottie let out a single 'ha'.

"That's my dad and Glenda for you," she commented, "Any reason why you're out her alone, Osbourne?" Ozzy laid back in his chair, looking up at the sky.

"It's a beautiful night…." he mused then domed the last of the joint and flicked the roach over the railing and to the parking lot below. Lottie watched this with interest.

"Why do you smoke?" she asked him. It wasn't accusatory, rather out of curiosity. Now, there were many ways for Ozzy to approach this subject. He could blabber on about 'how weed actually isn't that bad for you', but rather he decided to tell it straight.

"That's a...broad question, Lottie. Why do I blaze? I think that overtime I forgot. I remember starting when I was fourteen….I mean, it's like a hobby, I think. Helps me relax." Lottie hummed knowingly.

"You know, my dad says the samething about killing." Ozzy suddenly looked hurt.

"If you're saying what I think you're saying…"

"Haha, no, no, I'm not saying you're like my dad….goodness no. I just think that it's strange that people always say something that they shouldn't really be doing helps them relax, as if it's a satisfying justification."

"Truth be told, there's a fine line between first degree murder and possession and consumption of a schedule I drug," Ozzy laughed, "But doesn't everybody have that? Like something they shouldn't be doing but do it anyways because it helps them feel better? But even then it just goes so far beyond that...you know what I'm trying to say, right? Something that relaxes you so much that you so much that you just become neutral about everything. Just accepting everything as it is. Forgive if I'm not making any sense, pardon me, I am a bit buzzed here and now so I'm just spitballing." Lottie was silent in a brief moment of thought.

"I know what you're saying, or at least trying to; finding your balance. I mean, sometimes I meditate with Glen. .. 'Lottie, if there's one thing I can tell you, it's to meditate as much as you can. That way, you won't have to face the terrifying horror show that our lives have become' he tells me. I also do ballet, and a lot of it."

"No way," Ozzy gasped, "You dance?" Lottie gave a guilty smile.

"No dancing, just mind gymnastics through movement. This doll body can't keep me from it. Maybe there's still art in it; taking something ugly and wretched as this body and making something beautiful out of it."

"Ugly and...wretched? Is that really how you see yourself?"

Lottie lowered her head. Her hand inched out from the robe sleeve shyly and touched her face. She pinched her cheek a bit and pulled at her plastic flesh. She sighed.

"The THC you insist on taking can't inhibit your vision that bad. Osborne, look at me; I only resemble a human girl from a distance. True, this body may or may not be everlasting life, but most may consider it a monstrosity….you may not believe me, but there was a time when my family and I were beautiful."

"What's it like? Having your soul ripped out and put into a toy?" Ozzy asked after a moment of thought. He wasn't about to play child therapist, but he could at least become aware.

"I think 'ripped out' is the wrong way to describe it. Believe it or not, the whole voodoo process is actually quite comfortable, especially when you're in a dying body," Lottie was already having flashbacks.

"I remember. My dad came running in the Tilly mansion, sweating and shouting at us. He told us that 'they found us and they were coming and if we didn't leave right at that moment, then we would all be dead within the next hours. We had to make it look like accidents...I threw myself down the stairs….thinking back maybe I should've picked a less painful method. Being near death is a high itself. You just lay there motionless. Your eyes are closed but yet you can still see just a hint of light….then you begin to feel cold. Really, really cold like every nerve under your skin suffers frostbite at the same time. I don't recall a lot during this period, but I could faintly hear my dad above me, reciting the voodoo chant. Right as he gets to the fifth or so verse, it starts getting a little warm and breezy and it feels great. Then the light faded and everything went dark. Then I woke up...in this doll body. I was lying on the floor right next to my human one, I died with my eyes open." Lottie folded her hands in her lap, each one squeezing the other tightly. Ozzy sighed.

"So, that it now, isn't it? You're stuck in that body?"

"Until the day I die," clarified Lottie, "But, if we had the Heart of Damballa and a host then I would be free, but if I were to do that...I would feel dirty. Living life in a body that isn't truly mine. I got this doll for my sixth birthday. I would sleep with it every night….it was like my baby….now it is me and I am it. It's better to live as a monster with a purpose then a monster trying in vain to find one. And I can accept that."

"You're not a monster, you know," Ozzy said, "You saved me, remember? Two people are alive because you came through. Also, I never thanked you for it...so, thank you, Lottie for saving me and my girlfriend." Lottie gave him a quizzical look.

"Think nothing of it...but how do I know you're just saying this to get on my good side? To put a good word in for you to my dad so we can just let you go when all this is over?"

"Oh, I'm not thanking you out of kindness or to be a kiss-ass," smiled Ozzy, "I'm thanking you because….well, you're my friend, Lottie...and I'm glad you're here." Lottie felt an inhale of air go down the wrong pipe, she coughed roughly before finally making eye contact with Ozzy.

"Do you really mean that?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die….well, actually I don't hope to die, but yes. As weird as it is, you out of all your family make me feel the safest. There's something so human about you. Like you haven't fully crossed over to the dark side. You and your folks, you're not as evil as you think. You may plan to destroy the world, but it doesn't take a detective to see the doubt in all of you, even your dad." Lottie paused thoughtfully.

"Osborne….I can't guarantee your safety at the end of the line and if my dad turns on you, I will stand by him. But for now...I'm rooting for you, all the way. You're...my friend too, Osborne, and I'm glad you're here too." Ozzy outstretched his arms.

"Bring it in, Lottie."

Chucky's daughter smiled and to humor him accepted the embrace. She had to stand up in her chair to do so. She couldn't reach his head, so she just placed her head just below his shoulder.

"Hi, I'm Lottie and I'm here to give you lots of love." Lottie's fake doll voice suddenly played. The hug instantly broke apart.

"Oh my," Lottie blushed, "Sorry, sorry….sometimes it just happens...when I get squeezed a bit too much."

Ozzy tried to mute his laughter, but once again the THC that had him pebbled worked against him. Lottie couldn't help but giggle along with him.

"Oh my god!" Ozzy exhaled.

"Yeah, just don't tell Glenda. I don't want to get groped every now and then. Speaking of my sister," Lottie slid out of her chair, "I think the shower may be open. You should get some sleep too, Osborne."

"I know I will," he stretched, "Night, Lottie. Remember you're my friend, don't forget it."

"That means a lot to me, Osborne," Lottie smiled, turning the door handle of her room "Thank you."

"No really, I mean if this was Undertale I would be Frisk and you would be Sans, because that's how much you mean to me."

"Hahaha, yeah….G'night, Osborne." And Lottie closed the door behind her.

Ozzy also returned to his own room.

* * *

Shauna was hugged up against a pillow. The motel's poor excuse of an AC was barely functioning, so it wasn't idol to be just in a sports bra and compression shorts designed for men, that's usually what Shauna wore to bed, while at the same time smelling of Irish Spring. This however was not the case since she had to use the cheap shampoo and what not the motel had provided. She had just flipped the pillow over to the warm side when she felt someone lift the covers and get in bed beside her. A pair of tattooed arms wrapped around her.

"Hi…" Ozzy hummed as he pulled her to him, lowering his head onto her head, her buzzed hair brushed up on his chin. Despite being an up and coming sports star, Shauna was through growing. At least in height, stopping only at 5' 4''. _No matter what, Shauna, you'll always be my womanlet..._ Ozzy, who stands at at a solid 6' would tell her in the lovey dovey moments...and this would be one of them.

"Hi," Shauna turned and planted a kiss on his lips, "You seem a little more dopey than usual."

"What else is new?" her boyfriend yawned, "Fuck, it's cool in here." He shivered. Shauna continued to caress his arms.

"You gotta keep your chest warm, your arms will handle themselves," she said. Ozzy smirked lovingly and mischievously.

"Oh, really...well, how's about I take care of your chest for you?" Shauna felt his hands move up her abdomen and to her breasts. His arms hugged them together. Shauna gasped a little, but settled down.

"Why you need to make everything so pervy?" she chuckled.

"But you feel warmer….don't you?" Ozzy shook his head purposely for as he let his dreadlocks fall onto both of them. Shauna blew a little to move away the locks that had fallen in front of her face. The couple remained like that, locked in a spoon position for warmth.

"Do you trust them, Shauna?" Ozzy asked suddenly. Shauna stirred.

"Hmm?"

"Lottie and her family….the Rays. Do you trust them?" Shauna pondered this.

"As far as I could throw them."

"I bet you could throw them pretty fucking far. I've seen you shot put before…"

"You know what I mean," Shauna deadpanned, "But...you're probably right. I think I might. Why do you ask?"

"You can call me crazy, but then again I think you already have. But I think we're lucky that they found us before the Cult did….I think I might be seeing the light with them…" Ozzy said nervously. He couldn't see this, but Shauna's eyes widened.

"Oh dear god, you actually developed a bond with them, didn't you?" she gasped, "Is that all it takes, Ozzy? Just one smoke sesh and you and one of the most infamous killers of our time are suddenly bros?" Ozzy shook his head defensively.

"No, I mean, but we both want the same thing. Chucky just wants to keep his family safe and I want to keep you safe. It's symbiotic."

"Last time I checked, we were his prisoners. That man...thing isn't our friend, he's our warden."

"That's actually kinda poetic, the whole 'warden' thing. Nice one, Shauna."

"Why thank you, I try," Shauna smiled, "But seriously, he's just waiting for the right time to waste us."

"C'mon, you had fun in the fountain tonight...I saw you."

"No…" Shauna said firmly, "Not really….maybe...uh, I have the right to remain silent." Ozzy snickered as he kissed her again.

"That's not the point thought, Ozzy. Playing in a fountain didn't make us closer to him or anything. If there's one thing I learned in the rink, it's that easiness doesn't last."

"True," said Ozzy, "But maybe it brought us much closer than we realize...they need us and we need them. You can't forget that." Shauna answered with a tired 'mm-mm'.

"Yeah...could be. I'll sleep on it...I love you, Shauna."

"Love you too, Ozzy."

The couple found sleep oddly easy that night.

* * *

"There, done!" Chucky finished tieing the last black garbage bag, the one containing one of the quarters of the manager's dismembered torso. Whilst Glenda scrubbed the last of the blood off the bath/shower floor. Now Lottie would be able to shower.

"Lottie, shower's open," Glenda notified her younger sister.

"At last," Lottie claimed the bathroom, hoping the shower would at least have hot water. She shut the bathroom door and the shower promptly started.

"Well only one thing left to do." Glenda raided the closet and pulled out one of the two blankets reserved for guests. The other one was in use by Glen, who was asleep in the single chair. Beneath his pillow was his blade. A ronin needs to be ready for anything.

Glenda unrolled the blanket and laid it out on the floor. She then laid herself down on one side of it. Her mother, sitting up in bed reading a magazine from the lobby took notice.

"Glenda, sweetie, what are you doing?"

"I like sleeping in blanket burritos." Glenda explained, then rolled herself across the blanket until it was completely coiled around her. Her legs were too short to protrude of the other side, so only her head popped out.

"Success!" She cheered and tried to squirm forward, but to no avail. She heaved a couple times and tried to move like a worm, but this too will be in vain. Chucky stood a little amused over her.

"Daddy…." she said innocently, "Can you put me on the ottoman? Please and thanks?"

"Sure." Chucky sighed. He slipped his hands under his daughter and lifted her up. I'm just going to say it on Ozzy's behalf, she looked like a blunt wrapped up like that. Chucky then waddled over to the ottoman and set her down.

"Thankies," Glenda yawned.

"Yeah...sleep tight, Glenda," her father set a spare pillow beneath her head.

Chucky caught the contagious yawn as he made his way over to Tiffany. He hovered over her a little bit before collapsing onto her. You'd think he did it on purpose because his head lay on her chest. Tiffany set the magazine aside.

"Aggggggggggggggggggggh," moaned Chucky, "I'm fucking bushed….bones are a lot tougher to break then I remember, Tiff. Goddamn." Tiffany giggled as she slipped her hand under his shirt's backside. Her nails lightly traced against his bare skin in circles and indescribable shapes. She usually did this to help her husband relax, but this time it seemed that it was appropriate.

"Chucky, it sounds like you're saying that you're getting to ol-" Her husband gasped and put his hand to her mouth. He shushed her with playful violence.

"No, Tiff, no, don't say it. Don't say the 'o' word. Not there yet!" Tiffany, smiling beneath his palm, lifted his hand from her.

"But it is true, isn't it?" Chucky shook his head viciously.

"No. No it isn't. Far from it. We're only supposed to be like 58. But subtract some of the years we've been dead...that makes you like high thirty-ish and in my case, I'm like 32. C'mon, we're still on the front nine."

"Hahaha," Glenda laughed from the side, "You're in denial, dad. You got dad's breath all over you."

"Dad's breath?" Chucky questioned.

"Yeah, it means you're getting old."

"Glenda," gasped her dad, "I outta wash your mouth out with soup for such language! Damn, have some fucking class!" Glenda smirked triumphantly.

"Love you, g'night!" she rolled over and was silent. Tiffany looked unsure at Chucky still lying on her.

"Don't expect me to move, Tiff, I'm here for the night," he said. Tiffany continued to trace her nails on his back gently. Whenever she hit a stitch, Chucky would moan pleasantly. Over time they had gotten worn and sensitive. It almost seemed that Tiffany was petting him like a cat.

"Do you think I've been getting soft, Tiff?" he asked out of nowhere. Tiffany paused her scratching but soon resumed.

"In what ways?" Chucky moved his shoulders, simulating a shrug.

"I dunno….what about tonight? Didn't I seem kind of different with Ozzy?"

"Well, you were much more pleasant with the kids...but why does it matter? We were just taking it easy. Hell knows we need it after all this time of running here and there."

"Don't worry, it all ends when we get the amulet back together again...and the other one." Chucky said.

"And when we….kill Ozzy," reminded Tiffany.

"Yeah….that too," Chucky flipped himself against her.

"You don't sound so sure, Chucky." She looked down at him.

"It's a simple kill, Tiff. I'm always sure….there's not other way. For us to be safe, Ozzy has to go." Still, unease in Chucky's statement. Tiffany hummed.

"If there was another way, one that involved no one dying, would you take it?" she asked, expecting an obvious answer (to Chucky standards).

Chucky stopped. He thought for a bit, leaving the room silent. Save for the running shower in the bathroom. Again, a throwback to the earlier chapters, Lottie was the one who ominously broke the silence…

 _The sun goes down_

 _The stars come out_

 _And all that counts_

 _Is here and now_

 _My universe will never be the same_

 _I'm glad you came_

 _I'm glad you came_

Chucky and Tiffany glanced over to the bathroom door. Accompanying the sound of rushing bath water was Lottie. She was singing…slow and melodic, the acoustic version.

 _You cast a spell on me, spell on me_

 _You hit me like the sky fell on me, fell on me_

 _And I decided you look well on me, well on me_

 _So let's go somewhere no one else can see, you and me_

Her parents had heard her sing before. But this time was different. The words, the flow, they didn't seem like they had been rehearsed. The way she sung...there was energy and emotion to it, as if she was living the song. Whenever the song called for a beat, she would audibly tap the shower wall.

 _Turn the lights out now_

 _Now I'll take you by the hand_

 _Hand you another drink_

 _Drink it if you can_

 _Can you spend a little time,_

 _Time is slipping away,_

 _Away from us so stay,_

 _Stay with me I can make,_

 _Make you glad you came_

Chucky also knew this song...it was one of his Glen's favorites. It wasn't hearable, but he was humming. Tiffany had stopped tracing around on his back. That arm had to be used to prop up her head comfortably while she her daughter's music hit her.

 _The sun goes down_

 _The stars come out_

 _And all that counts_

 _Is here and now_

 _My universe will never be the same_

 _I'm glad you came_

 _I'm glad you came_

The bath water carried Lottie's voice under the closed door in such a perfect way. Chucky's eyes fluttered tiredly as he pulled closer to his wife.

 _You cast a spell on me, spell on me_

"Hey Tiff?"

 _You hit me like the sky fell on me, fell on me_

"Yes, Chucky?"

 _And I decided you look well on me, well on me_

"Maybe...just maybe, if there was another way...maybe, I don't know."

 _So let's go somewhere no one else can see, you and me_

Chucky was able to doze off soundly as his daughter continued the song. The bone chopping fatigue had finally caught up to him. His wife kissed his sleeping form. She would stay up and make sure Lottie would get to bed.

 _Turn the lights out now_

 _Now I'll take you by the hand_

Lottie's voice lowered, each time more than the last. The wall taps became less frequent.

 _Hand you another drink_

 _Drink it if you can_

 _Can you spend a little time,_

Like Osborne Wilkes, sleeping in the room next to him, Chucky had decided he too would sleep on it.

 _Time is slipping away,_

 _Away from us so stay,_

 _Stay with me I can make,_

 _Make you glad you came_


	7. Homecoming

**AN: I think that it goes without saying that I am really disappointed with my progress on this fan fic. I love this to death and I am going to finish this one, but I think it's going to take me a bit longer then I thought. I remember when I said that I would update weekly, believe it or not I used to do that with other fics. Now, I'll try to update monthly, hopefully there will be sometime where I actually post two chapters in one month. I know I keep you waiting a lot, but rest assured this fan fic is going to get finished.**

"I FUCKING TOLD YOU THIS WAS A BAD IDEA!"

"SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH AND RUN!" The jock yelled at his girlfriend, or rather escort for the night.

U.S. Cellular Field, you know, the home of the Chicago team that didn't win the World Series? Didn't have a ball game that night. It was the after hours. And while the field itself remained lit, but the building's interior lights were blackened. The couple of the jock and the side chick ran, sprinting with lungs working overtime. Their reasons for being here weren't clear. I mean, to me they aren't but to them they probably are. But, would it really matter in the next five minutes?

They clumsily navigated their way through the empty stadium, on the second floor, trying to find their way back to the parking lot. Soon, they turned a corner. Lighting footing the stairs with one hand on the railing as they avalanched down to the final floor.

Aside from their own terrified fleeing, there was another sound present. Somewhere, above them, on the floor they had just been on, someone or something ran about above them. At the same speed as them, but yet the tempo and pace it ran at was more relaxed and set. There were footsteps, but they sounded as if whoever was making them had their feet tap the ground milliseconds before shooting back up as opposed to clumsily pounding the jock and side chick's respective shoes made as they pounded the concrete floor. Whoever was chasing them, clearly had practice.

Then the side chick screamed as the two looked up at the top of the stair flight. It was like out of a ghost story. A bluish, blinding glare illuminated above them. It wasn't one of the stadium lights or the light of a possible nightguard. High pitched, electrical buzzing stunned the ears of the couple along with what sounded like a cackle. A victorious, shrill cackle of a woman...the echoing walls of the stadium made it hard to tell whether or not it came from the top of the stairs or from the previous floors above them.

"FUCK!" The jock screamed he pushed the side chick roughly to hurry her along. Powered by fear and with the help of her underweighted figure, that's just what she did.

They were close now. The parking lot was just beyond them, right past the box office. From behind them, they could hear that the electric buzzing had evolved into thunder cracking. The unmistakable screaming of a women was louder and more heart wrenching than before.

"C'mon! We're almost out!" the side chick cried.

They had just exited the stadium when a rogue sidewalk crack, caught onto the jock's shoe toe and tripped him flat on his face. He yelled out as his nose most definitely shattered on the pavement. His side chick hadn't paid him any mind. She reached their car, parked stealthy outside the field's property.

She had the keys with her, throwing open the driver's door then the passenger side for her guy friend. The jock had gotten up quickly and covered his bleeding nose. He was just half way across the lot, until that weird blue light, the one that had scared them so much flashed from U.S. Cellular's entrance, mere yards from where he stood.

He screamed and sprinted faster towards the car...but it seemed that the light was giving chase. It followed him, getting closer and closer no matter how much he increased his speed. His side chick watched from the car, leaning over the middle console, hand on the passenger door.

"I'm so sorry…" she whispered, slowly shutting the door she help open.

"DON'T YOU FUCKING-" the jock reached out, the light now inches from his back.

"I'M SORRY!" the side chick cried to him, finally slamming the door shut.

"DON'T LEAVE ME-"

The blue glare suddenly vanished, as if activated by a switch. No slow disappearing, just instantly gone.

Then the jock screamed for the last time. There was barely any light, but something was on him. He sounded as if he was struggling or fighting back against someone. He then let out the loudest and final scream. A hint of the blue glare came back, but only for a moment. When it illuminated the scene unfolding.

Someone or something had its hand around the jock's neck. The rest of the body was hid by the darkness of the parking lot, but there was an arm and hand. At first it seemed like the light was coming from behind or above them...but it was coming from the arm.

The jock spazzed and jolted around wildly. The movements someone would make...if they were being electrocuted. He did this until smoke started to rise off his neck, right from beneath were the hand was wrapped.

Then he was still and the light went out once more.

The side chick hugged her arms around her legs in the driver's seat. Whimpering softly and rocking back and forth. Slowly, she lifted her head and looked out the passenger window.

With the help of the small crescent moon light, she made out figures. The first was obvious, the boy she had came with lying on the pavement. His neck was still emitting smoke.

Standing over him, she was able to see what looked like a woman, about her age. Her physical features were in possible but she was sure that it was a girl. A girl in a hood and bare arms, every now and then flickering with the malice of blue light.

She stood over the body, her hooded head looking around as if she had missed something. And as we all know she did.

The side chick quickly silenced herself, throwing her hands over her mouth, trying not to scream. She shook violently, but that was muffled by the cloth seat. She attempted to slowly lower her feet to the pedals and the key to the ignition. The moment she would start the car would be the same that she would speed away. But, that was when the side chick made a huge mistake.

'BEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!'

That took time for her to register. She had not screamed, but the car had. Her knee had briefly come into contact with the steering wheel...right on the horn.

The figure in the parking lot's head suddenly shot up and slowly pointed to the side chick. Not to the car, but to her. She stepped forward, her arm beginning to illuminate. Faint, baby blue to dark azul in seconds. Electricity buzzed once more as the piercing glare returned. And with a crackle of thunder, it shot directly towards the car. The side chick would only sob her last, trapped in the car that would become her tomb.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

* * *

"Osborne?"

The Acolyte was awakened by a series of taps and nudges. He still lay in the spooning position he had fallen asleep in with Shauna the night before in the motel room. _I guess the theory about this all being a crazy dream is officially dead._

"I believe you ordered a wake up call to this room."

Ozzy's eyelids couldn't decided if they would rather be closed or open, so he picked somewhere in between. Through his narrow peripheral vision, he could make out the unmistakable small stature of Lottie standing beside him and his sleeping girlfriend.

"Oh," he blinked, "G'morning, Lottie." He gave her a smile that clearly said 'I'm not a morning person'.

"Pleasant dreams?" the littlest Ray asked.

"Well, a small part of me was expecting to wake up in my apartment," Ozzy yawned.

"Unfortunately, your nightmare continues," said Lottie.

"I wouldn't exactly call this a nightmare. Not as long as I got you Saints protecting me."

"Please, if my family were Saints then Freddy Krueger would be the Dalai Lama," Lottie laughed, "Anyway, my dad needs everybody up. We're about to move." Ozzy reached out to the digital clock on the nightstand next to the bed. It was unplugged though.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"About 8:30." Ozzy pulled the blankets over his head.

"Just a couple more minutes...maybe hours," he croaked, "The Shadowmen don't know where we're at just yet...just a couple more hours. C'mon, Lottie, be a friend."

Lottie shrugged and made her way back to the door.

"Ok, Osborne, wish granted," she 'admitted defeat', "I can't force you up...but I don't think I can be bothered to wake you again...maybe, I'll ask Glenda to…"  
Ozzy sat up and yanked the comforter off his head, then gently put a hand on his sleeping girlfriend.

"Shauna...it's time to get up."

* * *

Lottie led the couple to the room next door. One would think that the motel would look more presentable now that it was daylight, but if anything it just looked a whole lot more appalling. The structures were peeling in some places and the doors were moldy. Some of the rooms were even missing windows. They weren't broken or stolen it just looked like the contractors forgot to put them in...or just didn't. The parking lot was still empty, save for Ozzy's car and the patch of ruffled Earth that Chucky had left behind when he buried the manager's body, or rather pieces of it, earlier.

"Allow me," Lottie stood on her tiptoes as she reached up for the door knob. When she proved to be too short, she jumped up and pulled the handle down. Another example of her doll body working against her. Ozzy stepped within the Rays' residence first.

"Morning all-ooh my gosh, what is going on here?"

What awaited was a rather amusing exhibition (one of many in this fan fic).

Chucky was lying on his gut, head comfortably propped on a pillow. His Good Guy shirt was off, his bare and scarred back exposed. His wife, Tiffany, was walking about on his upper body. She wasn't wearing her heel boots of course, that would've just been messy and uncomfortable for her husband.

Glen, however was doing his own thing at the room's coffee maker. The room was in fact rich with coffee aroma along with a slight hint of earl tea. As he tended to his beverage making, he also tinkered about with his tanto. He ran a rock he had found outside up and down the blade, sparks flickered as he edged out the duller parts. Whether he looked badass or cute was up for debate.

Chucky's head rose as he greeted Ozzy. "Top of the morning, Ozzy. And your lady friend too." he groaned every now and then as Tiffany walked on him.

"Sleep well?" she asked the younger couple, kindly.

"Yeah…" Ozzy nodded, awkwardly, "I take it...you two didn't though?"

"Oh, no," Chucky shook his head, "Best sleep I've ever had in awhile, in fact. When I wake up my back gets stiff and it's kind of a bitch to walk in the morning….agh...Tiff, I'm thinking a little bit lower…"

Tiffany hummed an 'hmmm mmm' and focused on his lower back.

"Yep! That's the ticket." There was an audible 'crack!' after Tiffany lowered her foot a couple inches above her husband's tailbone. Chucky cried out then slowly lowered his head back onto the pillow blissfully.

"Ahhhh….yahtzee," he reached over finger tapped his wife's leg. She stepped off him.

"Much obliged, babe." Chucky stood up as he stretched himself, "yes sir, my spine is only the secondest hardest thing that you have to contend with in the morning."

Glen and Lottie groaned while Ozzy and Shauna snickered. Tiffany just blushed.

"Well then," Glen got Ozzy and Shauna's attention, "Can I interest you two in a hot beverage; coffee or tea to start your day?" Ozzy took a mug he was offered.

"Is this earl grey?"

"I had you figured as tea person," Glen smiled, "Coffee, Shauna?"

"Please," Shauna accepted the one with creamer in it. The couple sipped their beverages as Glen gave his dad the only black coffee had made. Chucky drinks his coffee black, who would've thought?

"So, Chucky, any reason for the early rising?" asked Ozzy. Chucky spoke as he set his coffee aside and began redressing his upper body, taking his shirt off the heater and fidgeting with his overall straps.

"Well, Ozzy. I need you awake right now because I have just planned our next move-"

At this moment, the bathroom door suddenly swung open. Glenda angrily stopped out, clad in a bath towel and a wet shower cap. In her hand, she held a bar of soap.

"Which one of you boobs took the loofah!?"

Internally, Glen and Lottie seemed to facepalm whilst the two couples looked on with confusion. Glenda angrily shot glares at everybody in the room. However, the demeanor she fabricated just for this situation broke down when she saw Ozzy (of course), looking down on her.

"Oh," Glenda's voice died down into what she thought could pass as a seductive purr, "Hello there, Dreadie. I didn't think you'd be up this early," she leaned against the wall as she lightly tugged on her towel.

"Yeah...good morning to you too, Glenda." Ozzy didn't know what else to say.

"It seems that you caught me just getting out of the shower...if you hadn't noticed. But that's ok. With you here...I'm always up for another. One for two, perhaps?" Glenda then noticed the clear disdain on Shauna's scowl directed at her.

"You," Glenda pointed harshly at her, "can wait the fuck outside."

"Dear sister," her twin spoke up on Shauna's behalf, "Perhaps I can get you in a cup of tea?" he held up a mug of such, "You do seem quite thirsty, wouldn't you say?"

Glenda blinked and in that amount of time she put together the double meaning. "Why you little-"

"Glenda!" her father scolded, "If that towel slips so much as a millimeter, so help me! Now, get back in there and get dressed! What do you think this is? American Psycho?" Glenda sighed, defeated, and retired back to the bathroom.

"And then I get to kill my brother?" she evilly asked from behind the door.

"And then you get to kill your brother," nodded Chucky.

"I'd like to see her try," Glen commented. Humor such as this was commonplace for the Ray family; one of the many things Glen had adapted to. Honestly, you'd be surprised on how dark his humor gets at times. 'Fred Flintstone writes a suicide note to his family, what does it say? Forgive me for what I must yabba dabba do,' he once told his seventh grade English class as assigned 'joker of the week'. The substitute teacher had given him extra credit.

"Hey Glen," Shauna whispered to him, "When all this is over, can I rip off Glenda's head, then punt it? Please?"

"Haha, get in line," laughed Glen. Shauna shortly followed and the two clinked mugs in salute.

"Charming," Ozzy sipped his earl grey tea, "What's our next move, Chucky?"

"Well, while you were sleeping in, we took the liberty of making some travel arrangements," Chucky explained.

"Can't we drive?"

Chucky laughed. "If you want to drive from here all the way to the Windy City, then sure. I know I got all the time in the world and you do too, right?" Ozzy blinked.

"Chicago? You can't be serious, what's in Chicago?"

"There's two things we still need, Ozzy. The other piece to the Heart of Damballa," he pulled out the other half he had with him as a reminder, "And a second amulet...the Soul of Damballa. The exact double of the Heart, except I think it has a Sapphire and not a Ruby. Without the Heart and Soul there can be no body, meaning the Acolyte ritual can't be performed."

"How do you know that it's in Chicago?" asked Shauna.

"I don't," Chucky admitted, "But I think if we'll ever find a lead on where it might be, Chicago is a place. That's where it all began...where I started possessing this body, where I started killing...and I'm coming home. The Soul is lost, but we can find it."

 _Lost soul! Lost soul!_ Ozzy suddenly felt his skull tighten again. He recalled that dream he had, minutes before he met Lottie.

"Ok…" he shook it off, "What about the Heart? Where's the other piece of that?"

"Burton probably has it," Chucky's fist clenched at his side again, "He's also in Chicago...two birds one stone."

"You mean...he's never been to California? He was never here at all?" Ozzy was stunned.

"Yep, he's been sending Shadowmen here to do his dirty work…the 'church' he's got going is set up there."

"Is that such a good idea? Going right to his doorstep?"

"We got nowhere else to go. It's the only lead we got to where the Soul might be." Shauna stood up.

"You can forget that, we can't go all the way to Chicago." Chucky would probably have resorted to threatening had Ozzy had spoke up.

"Shauna, we know what happens if we stay here. The Shadowman will eventually catch up to us. If we go to Chicago...we might be able to stop them for good." He wrapped his hands around her arms in a comforting way. Shauna sighed.

"Why do we need these necklaces when we already have Ozzy?" she asked Chucky, "That cult won't be able to do the ritual if they don't have him."

"As much as I hate to think about it, there is the possibility of him killing us and taking you, then the next day sure as hell ain't going to exist. It's better if we have everything away from him." Chucky said. _Oh, and I'll get to perform the ritual instead of him…._ For some reason, he had opted not to say this aloud. Strange.

"I guess…"

"I think we're in good hands, Shauna," Ozzy said, "Right, Lottie?"

"Hmmm, mmmm," the youngest Ray hummed, sipping her own tea.

"Ok...but how are we getting to Chicago if we're not driving?" Shauna asked.

"Before you woke up I booked a last minute flight flying out of an airport a couple of hours from here, right into O'hare. I used the computer in the office…" Tiffany nudged her husband here.

"Ok...fine, maybe I had Tiff do it…." Figures, Tiffany was always more tech savvy than Chucky. After all, she was alive the majority of time when technology was beginning to evolve. She still remembers buying her first smartphone as Jennifer Tilly.

"It used Windows 11...I didn't think there were any of those left," she commented.

"We booked two seats under some bullshit names I found in your drug bag. Rest assured I didn't smoke any of your shit. I don't do the wake and bake unless whiskey is involved." Ozzy and Shauna knew the names of which he spoke of. 'Amanda Johnson' and 'Blake Swackhammer' (Ozzy was ultra ripped and had just watched Space Jam when he came up with his name) were the fake names that were printed on the, well... fakes they had acquired before either was old enough purchase alcohol. They had held onto them because there were some fond memories connected to those cards.

"So, yeah, looks like Amanda and Blake have a 12 o'clock flight into Chicago today," Chucky nodded impressively.

"You...came into our room while we were asleep?" Shauna tilted her head. Tiffany waved him off.

"Shauna, please. We're a family of serial killers, nothing we haven't done before," she said. Something that guilty should not sound that innocent, such is how Tiffany's voice works.

"How did you pay for this?" Ozzy couldn't help but ask as I'm sure the reader would like to know too.

"We used the motel manager's bank account," Chucky said, "And...maybe a little bit of Glen's college fund…"

"I'll never be president…" Glen sighed. Legally speaking, Glen could run for president...he was born in the US after all.

The bathroom door suddenly opened again and a clothed Glenda walked out, still drying her hair and attempting to stop the inevitable frizzing. No worries, she found the loofah, it was under the sink.

"Goddamit! I look like the teacher from Magic School Bus!" she complained.

"Wait, but how are you supposed to get on the plane?" Ozzy asked, "Are we just supposed to lug you all around the airport." Chucky looked at him quizzically.

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

"Wouldn't it just look kind of strange? Shauna and I just carrying not one but five dolls around in public. I mean...we'd look like the people featured on 'My Strange Obsession'. And if what you said about yourself is true, it would be even more sketch if we were seen with a doll linked to murders and crime scenes…." Ozzy shrugged, "But I'm just saying…" Chucky thought for a moment.

"You know what, Ozzy, you have a point," he said, "Alright, instead of flying coach, we'll just be your luggage. Get us a box or anything we can fit in and we'll handle the rest. But just to be sure you don't flake on us, I'll have someone fly with you."

"Oh! Oh! I volunteer!" Glenda pumped her hand up and down, "I got our flight all planned out, Dreadie! First we read Skymall, then inflight movie and pressing the call button at inappropriate moments, then finally we snuggle!" Ozzy was beginning to give Glenda less uncomfortable looks, this was becoming the norm with her.

"Ok…" Chucky said, giving Glenda the odd look she deserved, "Anyone else? Preferably someone who isn't Glenda?"

"What the shit, dad!?" Glenda cried.

"Glenda, you know and I know that you are the absolute fucking worst when it comes to keeping a low profile." This is true. Glenda Ray was never the sneaky assassin type and when it came to 'barbie mode', as her dad calls it, she just couldn't hold herself together. Plus, she was always a pain to take places before she was even a doll. One couldn't help but think that maybe the world isn't what we think it is. It's all Glenda's word, we just live in it.

"C'mon, Chucky you don't need to babysit me. You know I'd wouldn't leave you hanging. After all, you're the only one who knows the way around Chicago."

"I guess," considered Chucky, "But just for insurance." _Remember who is the hostage here._

"I'll go, dad," Lottie spoke up as she finished her tea. Glenda then glared at her sister with shock, the look that says 'what the fuck are you trying to do?'

"Ok then, it's settled," Chucky clapped his hands, "Lottie, you get to ride coach with our favorite couple here. We leave in a few! Get anything you might need! We're going home!" He directed everyone towards the door.

Ozzy shrugged and headed out to his car, Shauna followed him. Chucky, after stealing a couple of cushions (they would come into play later), joined them along with his wife. Lottie sipped what remained of her tea then turned in the empty mug to her brother.

"Fantastic tea, Glen," she said kindly, Thank you."

"Anything for my little sister," he said as he got to cleaning the cups his family had used. You know, so the maids (assuming the motel has them) don't have to. Because Glen is just that nice.

Glenda had finished a coffee as well. Rather angrily, she just guzzled the whole thing down, quickly and loudly. She let out a contend 'aah' after the liquid cooled in her throat then chucked the mug at the wall. It shattered on impact, what did you expect? The eldest Ray daughter then threw herself in front of Lottie, preventing her from leaving the room.

"Good morning Glenda, did you end up finding the loofah, after all?" she asked innocently.

"Hey!" Glenda pointed, "I know what you're trying to do! I see it!" Lottie raised an eyebrow.

"You know something? That's new!" Glen jeered from the sideline, cleaning out a mug with a wet cloth.

"What is that you think I'm trying to do?" Lottie put her hands behind her back and looked up at her in amusement.

"You're trying to steal my Dreadie from me!" Glenda screamed.

"...Excuse me?"

"Yeah! I was supposed to go with him on the plane! You totally jacked that from me!" Lottie quivered her lip as she silence a laugh that would've caused Glenda to maybe attack her all together.

"Yes, Glenda. That's exactly what's going on. I'm trying to steal Osbourne from you...I, a ten year old girl, has a romantic fascination with the significantly older man with a girlfriend...that's why dad gave me the 'ok'. It must be that reason and not the fact that I am the much more responsible choice."

"Now you're calling me irresponsible! Well...you're wrong...I'm like, the most responsible person ever." Glenda's attempt at a smart comeback.

"Yes, clearly. We have five neglected puppies in doggy Heaven that can vouch for you," Glen hummed.

"Glen! I will Yoshimitsu slash your face!" Glenda roared at her twin.

"Glenda's really funny when she gets mad," Lottie softly chuckled, "You have nothing to worry about Glenda. The relationship Osborne and I have is a friendship...the first one I've had in awhile."

"It better be!" Glenda hadn't calmed down, "Because Dreadie is mine! MINE!" she then childishly stomped out the door. Probably on her way down to the vending machine by the office. That's usually how Glenda deals with anger when killing is not an immediate option. 'Fury Feasting' her family calls it.

"What are we going to do with her?" Glen shook his head and he finished cleaning the last cup.

"I don't know…but sometimes I think I would've liked it better when she was trapped in your head." Lottie said, coldly.

"You ice queen…" Glen laughed as they both left to join the others, who were probably waiting at the car.

* * *

Shauna took the driver's seat yet again as her boyfriend say beside her in the passenger seat. He would navigate their way to the airport just as soon as he was done fumbling around in his bag.

"Shit...thought I had one rolled already," he sighed to himself, "Ah well, time to start from scratch." Chucky took notice from the back seats where he and his family had again claimed for themselves.

"Lose something, Ozzy?"

"I just thought I had a joint rolled for the ride. Thought I smoke up a little bit before. 'Why drink and drive when you can smoke and fly?' I always say." Chucky tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know what it is about you, Wilkes...but you're having a profound effect on my here. I find myself liking you more and more...and frankly, I don't like it." Chucky said this as if something was wrong with him, but Ozzy took it as a compliment nonetheless.

"Here Ozzy, you can have this." Tiffany handed him what appeared to be a joint, but it's thicker girth and distinct Swisher paper set it apart from the normal Raw or Zig Zags. It was a blunt.

"I found a pack of Swishers in the manager's office while I booked the flight," Tiffany explained, "I hope you didn't mind, so I borrowed a bit of your, well, chronic."

Ozzy looked over the blunt...it was perfect. Tiffany had ripped it down the middle quite flawlessly in a straight line then sealed it back up. She had even used part of the Swisher packaging as an improve filter. You honestly, couldn't tell that it had been ripped open it was sealed up so well. It was never narrow in any places, just consistent thickness. Ozzy whistled.

"You rolled this, Tiffany?" The bride of Chucky shrugged with a smile.

"It was no problem. I used to roll these all the time for Chucky back in the day," she said, "It helps my fingers relax. It was also much more easier with these smaller doll hands. Hope you enjoy it."

Ozzy just glanced at Tiffany, then back at the blunt. Sure, he knew how to prepare a blunt, but nothing like this.

"Hey, Chucky?" he asked the Ray patriarch, "Let's just say that if you die...and then if by some crazy circumstance Shauna dies," he earned a dirty glare from his girlfriend here, "Can I have Tiffany?"

"I don't know," Chucky answered ironically, "Can you?" Tiffany chuckled as her husband kissed her cheek.

"What the fuck!?" Glenda, who had been fuming where she sat, cried, "First Lottie, now my own mother!? Fuck! Why is everyone trying to steal Dreadie from me! Why am I not allowed to be happy!? Do you just not want that!?"

"Glenda, sweetie-" her mom attempted to calm her down.

"No! You know what!? Our relationship is over! You're all dead to me! I am never talking to any of you again!" Glenda angrily folded her arms with a huff and pressed her head against the window, completely silent.

Tiffany just sat back in her own seat. She then held up her hand, then counted down quietly on her fingers. Chucky, Glen and Lottie joined her on this too.

 _5_

 _4_

 _3_

 _2_

 _1_

"Hey mom, are we there yet-FUCK!"


	8. Homecoming Part II

Osborne had just pulled into the long term parking garage at the relatively large airport. He had driven so far from his hometown in Anaheim that it was hard to tell where in California they were. Sure, they would find out inside the airport, but for all we know they could've been somewhere in San Diego. It wouldn't matter, they would be in Chicago in a while.

They were able to find parking on the first floor of the garage marked 'long term', not too far from the exit leading to the terminals in fact. It was the summer, and people usually come to California rather than leave it. So it made sense. Nonetheless, there it was still a sizeable turnout; travelers coming and going.

In the back, Chucky, Tiffany and the twins situated themselves in a dufflebag. Before arriving to the airport, Ozzy and Shauna stopped at a travel store nearby...directly next to the airfield actually. Travel store next to an airport, convenient right? They picked up a bag of medium size to accommodate the Rays traveling like luggage. Chucky had said a simple cardboard box would do, but Ozzy felt like spoiling them...plus they sold candy by the register in there. Can't go wrong there.

Chucky fluffed up the bag interior with those pillows he had stolen from the motel, remember those?

"Alright, everyone inside," he directed his wife and two kids. Glen and Glenda climbed inside, engaging in the 'this is your side, this is my side' bit.

"So, we'll just check you in at the terminal, then pick you up at the baggage claim at O'Hare. That's it?" Ozzy went through his own bag.

"Pretty much," Chucky said, "Unless you find some way to fuck this up. But I'm pretty sure you won't. Not with Lottie with you. Right, princess?"

"One hundred percent, dad," Lottie nodded, "You've sent me through the mail, I think I could handle a low profile four hour flight coach."  
"Yeah, that kind of reminds me," Glenda poked her head up from the bag as her mother climbed in, "What are we supposed to do down there in the cargo hold for four whole hours….I mean, that's like an entire day."

"To you maybe," said Glen. He was honestly going to meditate the whole time.

"Glen, when your ADHD is as bad as mine, every passing second is a century. God, I'll die from boredom on this flight." Glenda huffed.

"Well here," Ozzy handed her his IPhone with earbuds, "I think you guys will need this more than me." Glenda eagerly snatched it from him.

"Sick! What do you have on here, Dreadie?"

"I got a couple of seasons of 'Thrones'," Ozzy listed off, "Other than that you I got Amazon video on there. I'm on the Prime trial so I think you have some variety. Same goes for music, got a lot of rock, reggae, and rap; my three R's. There's also a EDM playlist I put together, highly recommend that. It's pretty dank."

"Oh Dreadie, you really do care!" Glenda squeed, hugging the phone to her chest, "Thank you." Glen, Tiffany and Chucky sighed in relief. It would seem that Glenda was going to be quiet for the majority of the flight...at least until the battery dies. An IPhone battery can't go four hours without dying, that pause Dora the Explorer takes after asking a question is longer than that battery life.

"Chucky, can you kinda do me a solid here as well?" Ozzy asked, unzipping the messenger bag he had been carrying around this entire venture.

"Possibly," Chucky raised an eyebrow in interest, first at Ozzy then at the ziplock containing a sizeable portion of the recurring motif, I mean, cannabis he took out from his bag.

"Ok so…" Ozzy found this hard to put to words to the slasher, "As you know, I'm got a product...with me of illicit nature." Like a family of domestic cats, Chucky and his kin tilted their heads, "And I think the last place I want to be caught...is at an airport...smuggling it across multiple state lines…"

Chucky held his hands before him in a triangle shape. The kind people always make when they're in deep thought. His variant of this had an obvious mock to it.

"Ozzy…" he exhaled, "Are you asking me to be your drug mule?"

"Ah! No!" Ozzy sheepishly shook his head, "Drug mule? Nah, you're way too good for that, Chucky. You'd be more of a drug...bronco. You know, majestic as fuck." Chucky stared him down a bit before taking the ziplock.

"Easy there. Kiss my ass a little bit more and you might give it mano. Sure, I'll hold onto your shit for the flight, but I get first drag whenever you spark up again." Ozzy nodded.

"Appreciate it...hey, while you're in there; you aren't going to, you know, ice anyone?" Chucky gave Ozzy an appalling look.

"On a plane? Fuck no," he shooked his head, "I'm crazy enough to take on the Chicago and L.A. police department, but homeland security? Nooooo thank you."

"Ok, that's good to know. But what if the bag gets searched?"

"Haha, no one ever suspects a doll, Ozzy. Trust me on that." Chucky laughed, beginning to zip up the bag as his family hunkered lower by the light of Ozzy's phone.

"You'll take care of Lottie, right?" Tiffany couldn't help but ask this.

"Oh, don't you worry, Tiffany," Osborne assured, "pretty sure, she's gonna be the one looking after me." Lottie rolled her eyes humorously as she bid her family a temporary farewell.

Shauna gently handled the near weightless duffle bag. Well, it wasn't exactly weightless. Together, Chucky, Tiffany, and the twins may weigh as much as two medium sized dogs (I'm talking pit bulls or a pomeranian that maybe had a bit too much of those bacon bit snacks). Ozzy had offered to handle the bag, but Shauna refused to surrender that favor to him. Saying she wanted the 'exercise'. But that may have been a more polite way or saying she didn't want to carry Lottie. Ozzy shrugged.

"So…" he said, after locking down his car for what would have been the fifth time, "how...are we going to do this?"

"Just carry me, you know, like a doll," Lottie said bluntly and raised her arm, "Here, just grab me and pull me off the ground."

"But you'll just be hanging by your arm," Ozzy sympathized, "Won't that hurt you or something?"

"Oh, touched that you care, but it's ok," Lottie said kindly, "I won't feel a thing." This is true. When in 'barbie mode', Chucky and his kin become completely limp. Kinda like when you pick up ragdoll cats (are the Rays really that much like cats. That's like the second cat simile I got here).

Ozzy awkwardly lifted Lottie up by her wrist. She didn't struggle or make any movements for that matter. She just went limp and her face seemed to revert back to a static expression of a child's plaything.

"No, you deserve better." Ozzy sighed and moved her under his forearm, hugging her to the side to his chest. "Better?"

"Comfortable," Lottie commented, "Let's go. If you need to talk to me in there just hold me up to your ear. That's a little thing I learned from my dad, but don't make it obvious."

"Alright, operation low-key is at hand," Ozzy said confidently and they started off towards the terminal.  
Shauna wheeled the duffle bag alongside her boyfriend. It hit a bump or crack in the street and sidewalks but the Rays inside stayed quiet, seemingly getting in some practice before heading inside the airport.

"Hey, wait!" Glenda (who else) spoke up from within the bag, "When the phone battery dies, have we decided what Disney songs we're gonna sing for the rest of the flight? Because I'm feeling some tunes from the Renaissance."

* * *

"Mr...Swackhammer?" The security officer, a man of an amusing stature somewhere between four or five feet at the checkpoint eyed Ozzy's fake, more surprised at the name then doubtful. The fakes has already proven to work, the officer had accepted Shauna as if it were the real deal. Maybe it was Ozzy's choice with the last name after all.

"That's correct," Ozzy said confidently, "It's German. You know, like 'Sw-ock-ham-ar."

Without another moment of thought, the officer, gave him his ID and the boarding pass he had acquired, after checking their 'baggage' at one of the front desks, Jet Blue incase you were wondering. They had gotten through the security line pretty quickly. The whole thing moved a steady pace like those walk in haunted houses at amusement parks during the Halloween season.

All that while, Lottie had remained still and unmoving. Ozzy couldn't help but wonder if she had to hold her breath while like that. It was as convincing as can be. They got some envious looks from the children of passerbys. And a few weird ones too, considering a grown ass man is carrying around a doll in public. The Acolyte would shrug it off.

"Ok," finally said the officer and returned their fakes, after doing those drawing those weird orange highlighter circles on their boarding passes, "have a good flight, you three." A chuckle emitted at the delivery of the punchline. Ah well, it's homeland security, it's their job to mercilessly judge people.

Now, by its subjective definition, a story is an account of an event, or series of events. Usually not boring in nature, because if they were than they would never be told in the first place. For the trek over to Chicago, this is the case. Nothing went wrong that flight, it all went off without a hitch. But that's not to say that this chapter won't have it's highlight reel.

The first one began relatively quick the officer had sent them on their way, just about as Ozzy and Shauna were about to head through the metal detector. The couple monotonously followed the mandatory and often times bizarre security protocols. Remove shoes, put bags on the belt, etc. etc. Some say that the whole security thing at airports violate our basic human rights, others say it's imperative to our country's security. All I know is that they can see our junk with their fancy X Ray machines. Normally I charge for that.

"Sir, the doll has to go through screening." Another officer. This one, a short little woman with the body mass of a potato.

"Huh?" Ozzy glanced at her than at Lottie. She gave a mechanical blink, the plastic on her eyes tapped against her cheek for a pretty convincing effect. That had been a little code she and Ozzy had worked out. One blink for yes, two for no kind of deal.

"Oh, right right," he said and placed her on the belt.

Shauna had just passed through the checkpoint and was waiting for him. Through his passing through, Ozzy just kept glancing over at the officer monitoring the X Rays. When he finally did pass through as did Lottie, he noticed that the officer's face shift from neutral as hell to suspiciously interested.

"Sir," she said, picking Lottie up from the belt, "What kind of doll is this?" she was holding her by the neck, that couldn't have been comfortable.

"It's...exactly what it looks like," Ozzy said, "It's just a doll, you know...a toy for kids. Totally harmless. No need to be a hero today. You won't want to hold that line you got back there, would you?"

"I'm asking because this 'doll' has a skeleton."

"A what now?" Ozzy blinked.

"The X Rays we take show that this doll has a skeleton." The officer was right. The X Ray machine had worked on Lottie a little too well. The monitor displayed a small but fully formed skeletal system, "normal dolls don't do that."

Ozzy looked at Lottie helplessly. He knew that she sure as hell wasn't going to anything. He just didn't know what to say here. Ok...gotta bullshit my way out of this.

"That's because it's a really...uh, advanced doll. Super expensive too, they go for as much as a smartphone on the market."

I'm worth more than that Lottie's face remained blank, but her thoughts didn't.

"Why would someone your age need a doll like this?" the security officer was probably not taking this seriously anymore.

"Because-"  
"Because it's for my health studies final," Shauna stepped in, "I'm Amanda Johnson. I'm a summer student over at Citrus, you know community college in Anaheim.-"

Ozzy just stared speechlessly at Shauna taking control of this. Lottie while still in barbie mode was probably doing the same. The potato lady (I want to call her that from now on) raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, for my health final, teacher assigned us that 'parental responsibility project'. We get a doll and we have to treat like it's a real baby for a week." Shauna continued.

"That's right," her boyfriend said, "You must've had to do that at one point too, right?"

The potato lady's eyebrow raised a bit more, clearly not getting it.

"C'mon," Ozzy threw his hands, "It's like that one episode of Danny Phantom." Damn, that was a good show...cool rogues gallery too. Who was that one ghost, though? The scientist one… Shauna smirked, it was often when Ozzy would geek out after blazing.

"We kind of need that doll now," she gestured to Lottie, "If I don't pass this class, I won't get enough credits to transfer to UCLA. You wouldn't want to deny me that, would you?"

The potato lady paused and glanced at Lottie in her grip.

"So, you have to look after this doll like you're its' parents," She seemed to buy it and handed Lottie back to Ozzy, "You know, that's actually really cute." She smiled here.

"Yep, we're just one happy family, enjoying our...familiness." Ozzy saw her smile and raised her a fake one.

"Does she have a name?" the potato lady asked.

"Lottie," Ozzy said, "But not because it's short for Charlotte, but because we felt like we won her in a lottery. We got first pick."

"Adorable, you have a nice flight than."

Ozzy and Shauna left the security checkpoint with haste. From there on out it would be smooth sailing.

"Nice thinking there, Shauna," Ozzy kissed her cheek, "For a moment I thought we were busted. Have you done this before?"

"Remember that time I had that roller derby meet in Seattle and I left my ID at your place?"

"No...really?"  
"Yeah, Amanda Johnson had quite a highlight reel there."

"Slick as fuck," Ozzy moved the still Lottie up to his ear, "You good, Lottie?"

The youngest Ray remained silent for a moment. She wasn't trying to put on a convincing barbie mode, just speechless.

"Not because it's short for Charlotte, but because we felt like we won her in a lottery?" she repeated.

"What? Too much?" Ozzy asked. Lottie giggled.

"I think that may have been the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me." She laughed softly. Ozzy chuckled too.

"That was not at all what I was going for."

"Because we felt like we won her in a lottery," Lottie said again, trying to contain her laughter.

"Let's head to our gate," Shauna read their boarding passes, "Gate...forty six." They looked to their left and there was gate two. Figures.

* * *

This airport was one of those airports. You know, the ones with storefronts on storefronts of high end stores; Louis Vuitton, Burberry, Chanel, etc. etc. There was even a second story. Had it be not for the airfield and planes, one might assume it was just a mall.

Ozzy and Shauna never understood that. What was the point of putting such expensive stores in an airport. They already paid well over two hundred dollars for the flight tickets, what makes you think they're gonna pick up Gucci shades? It seemed to be an easy day here, plenty of space between people walking to their own gates.

The Acolyte held Lottie to his chest like a toddler. She had remained still for most of their elongated walk, but just as they were reaching the gate, Ozzy felt her shivering a tiny bit.

"You ok, Lottie?" he asked her, again holding her up to his ear.

"Fine, it's just a little chilly here." She wasn't wrong. For whatever reason management found it fit to keep their airport's air conditioning set somewhere in the low sixties.

"You might have to power through," Shauna said, "I think it might even be colder on the plane once we get up in the air."

"It's no problem." Chucky's daughter said.

"No, Lottie, I'll find something," Ozzy looked around, "Maybe there's a store I can get a blanket or something from. Here," he held Lottie out to Shauna, "You two wait at the gate, I'll catch up later."

Shauna glanced awkwardly at the doll being offered to her before taking a step back.

"Ozzy I-"

"Oh, Shauna, c'mon. She doesn't bite. Lottie's a sweetheart." Externally Lottie remained static but internally she was blushing profusely. Did Ozzy only have nice things to say about her?

"Ok...I guess." And her boyfriend handed her Lottie. Shauna stood there, with the same uneasiness a tourist might feel taking a picture with a tiger.

"Good, just wait for me. I won't take long." Ozzy headed back to the storefront while Shauna, silent as Lottie, found a seat by the gate.

Osborne looked around the storefronts. If he was buying Lottie a luxury accessory than maybe this would be easier. His luck changed when he just happened to run into an American Girl store. As plain as the bookstore next to it.

Ozzy first wondered why in the world there would be an American Girl in the middle of an airport. Then it suddenly made sense. New people fly every day and younger girls are some of those people. Maybe their parents might buy them a doll to ease their fear of first time flying. Because let's be real, flying is scary. Nothing like being sealed in a jet powered air tight capsule with wings and being launched into the sky. Ozzy made his first stop at American Girl.

* * *

"I'm back, girls." Osborne had found Shauna and Lottie in the seats by the window overlooking the plane they would soon be boarding.

"What did you end up getting?" Shauna asked, seeing how he had two bags with him.

"Reading material." Ozzy pulled a series of graphic novels out of the first bag. Mostly some pieces by DC; The Dark Knight Returns, Superman; For What Tommorrow, and a couple of Justice League Volumes. The only Marvel one he got was Old Man Logan, "You mess with comics, Lottie?"

"I've read some manga before," she said and saw the bag labeled American Girl, "What's that?"

"Check it out," Ozzy pulled out a doll's sized jacket. Lottie eyed it, weirdly. The jacket was slick with leather with no zipper running down the middle. It also had no pockets. In fact, it looked a bit like the black jacket that her mother had.

"What's that?"

"It's for you. I figure it's a better option than a blanket since we'll probably throw it out or something later, but this you can keep." Lottie tilted her head.

"I appreciate it, but I never really been a jacket person, Osborne."

"C'mon, just try it on. I bet you can pull it off. Here-" Ozzy picked her up and slipped her arms through the sleeves. There were still some people around, so Lottie didn't risk moving on her own.

"What do you think?." He set her back down. Lottie moved her arms about slightly. The jacket allowed easy movements and she didn't feel impeded by it. She was able to see a hint of her own reflection in the window she sat across from.

"Perfect fit...I like it. Thank you, Osborne."

"That's what homies do. Shauna, what do you think?" His girlfriend shrugged.

"It's alright…" was all she had to say.

Within the next five minutes. The intercom announced that the boarding process had begun. Before Ozzy and Shauna entered the plane, they turned back and looked behind them at the last Californian ground they had set foot on. Hoping that they would return.

* * *

I wanna love

Love and treat you

Love and treat you

Love and treat you

Love and treat you

The music slowly faded out as the final song on Ozzy's playlist, a Bob Marley EDM remix of Is This Love, ended.

Fast forward about three hours into the flight in the cargo hold. Chucky and his kin had let themselves out of the travel bag and were freely lounging about the hold. The slasher and his wife were nestled together by Ozzy's phone as it played music. They lay together against the pillow stolen from the motel. Tiffany's head rested in the crook of Chucky's neck as he held her close to him, sharing their body heat in the chilly baggage hold.

Glen wasn't too far away, his tantō layed out in front of him. He sat, legs crossed and his fists pushed together in front of him. His head was lowered and his eyes gently closed, deep in meditation. Glen's meditations wasn't only a moment of mental relaxation for himself, but also silent prayer, to no god in specific, but rather to himself. He hoped that everything would work out in the end, that he wouldn't have to take anyone's life, most of all, he hoped Ozzy, Shauna and his family would all make it out safely of whatever awaited them in Chicago.

His twin, was up to her usual mischief. Glenda was rummaging through the other luggage, playing dress up with whatever she could find. At least she was busy doing something. When Glenda is bored, she gets whiney and when she gets whiney her voice reaches decibels thought not possible for any humans to reach. Real recipe for an ear bleed.

"Hey mom, dad! Look!" she emerged from another suitcase wearing a fur scarf, "Look at me! I'm an aristocrat!" she flipped it over her shoulder and strutted forward to her parents, "Here ye, here ye! The duchess of Los Angeles has arrived! Would you care to join me in the parlor for some wine tasting?" she howled with laughter. Tiffany laughed too, but it wasn't nearly as loud as her daughter's. Chucky displayed his unamusement with a face of stone.

Glenda then snatched up Ozzy's phone. The battery was nearly dead at this point.

"What are you doing, Glenda?" her dad asked.

"Looking for dick pics," Glenda said as she scrolled through the phone's photo gallery, "There's gotta be some here."

"Gimme that!" Chucky grabbed the phone from her, "Fuck, can you do anything other than hounding over the Acolyte?"

"I can do this." Glenda then proceeded to make bubbles with her spit. That's some real talent right there. Chucky pinched his brow than began to have a look through Ozzy's pictures himself.

"Hypocrite!" cried Glenda, "I'm not allowed to look at dick pics and you are?"

"I'm not fucking looking at pictures of his dick, Glenda!" yelled Chucky, "I just want to see if there's anything...special about Ozzy. I mean, Damballa had to choose him as the Acolyte for a reason."

Chucky honestly didn't know what he expected to find in the photo album, but all of Ozzy's pictures seemed normal...for a pothead. The norm seemed to be him either with or without Shauna smoking weed in an exotic place of some sort. Other pictures were just zoomed in frames of his eyes showing how red they were.

There were some other honorable mentions though. There was one of Ozzy and Shauna at Disneyland, another one on Hollywood Boulevard, and there was one of them at a Clippers game. They seemed to be avid travelers of California. But there were no pictures that indicated that Ozzy was special in anyway. Just a stoner and his athlete girlfriend enjoying life.

"They kind of remind me of us, Chucky," Tiffany, who had also been looking at the phone, said.

"How?"

"Remember how we used to live in the city? You know, the eighties." Chucky paused, than the memories came.

"Yeah…"

Back in the eighties, Chucky and Tiffany shared a place in Chicago. Chucky had started his career as a killer long before, but his killings were kept anonymous. There was a Lakeshore Strangler, but no one had figured out that it was him (at least until the CPD hired Detective Norris in 88'). During this time, Chucky could simply walk the streets in daylight and no one would ever suspect a thing.

He and Tiffany knew all the good spots in the Windy City; Millennium Park, Wrigleyville, Navy Pier (before it sucked). Hell, he even got season tickets to the Bulls, who had recently drafted Michael Jordan. Yeah, living in Chicago during the eighties kicked ass.

"I want to see if he have any games on that!" Glenda swiped the phone from her father. About one picosecond after she had it in her grip, the battery died. She pressed and held down the power button, but this was in vain.

"Shit!" she threw the phone in the bag they had smuggled themselves in, intentional or unintentional we will never know, "How much longer until we get there?"

"I don't know, Glenda," her mother said, "Why don't you just do what Glen is doing? He seems to be killing time pretty well." Glenda glanced at her meditating brother.

"But he's doing weird weeaboo shit."

"Twat!." Glen apparently heard everything.

"Commit seppuku you fucking weeb!"

"How about we just play sit down, shut the fuck up, and don't piss me off?" Chucky said. There really shouldn't be a question mark there. That was an order.

Glenda huffed and dropped down. She folded her arms as she sat, grumbling to herself. Chucky gave a satisfied nod and laid back down besides Tiffany. Oblivious to the new grin that was forming on Glenda's face, who stood back up remembering that they never had Disney song time….

"I can show you the world,"

"Glenda," Chucky warned.

"Shining, shimmering, splendid."

"Glenda, you promised."

"Tell me, daddy, now when did you last let your heart decide?"

"Shut the fuck up, Glenda."

"I can open your eyes," Glenda shuffled over to her dad here, "Take you wonder by wonder."

"Fucking stop, Glenda."

"Over sideways and under on a magic carpet ride," Glenda put both her hands on Chucky's stitched cheeks, then squeezed them together, "A whole new wooooooooorld! A new fantastic point of view! No one to tell us no! Or where to go! Or say we're only dreaming!"

"Let go of my face right fucking now, Glenda."

"A whole new wooooooorld! A dazzling place I never knew! But when I'm waaaay up here! It's crystal clear! That now I'm in a whole new world with you!"

Welcome to the next hour and a half of your flight, Charles Lee Ray.

* * *

Fortunately, the upper deck of the Boeing was much more quiet. It was at this time in the flight where most passengers were either asleep or absorbed into their electronics. The stewardesses, oh shit, they hate being called that...the flight attendants had stopped running up and down the aisle and finally found some time to themselves.

Ozzy and Shauna were seated just one row behind first class. The middle arm rest was up and Lottie sat in between them. Ozzy got the aisle seat and his frame mostly hid her from view. And since everyone around seemed to be snoozing, Lottie was able to move on her own. Subtly though. Shauna had the window shade up as she stared outside while tuned into the armrest aux. Ozzy had just gotten through some of the graphic novels and now was drawing something or other in his sketchbook. Lottie had asked him what it was, but he told her to wait and see. From the construction lines he had made Lottie would make out a human shape. But the proportions were a little bit off. They seemed...smaller. Osborne was also tuned into the aux. He always looked to music for inspiration when he drew and there was a channel for that.

Lottie, herself, had also read through the graphic novels. Her favorite seemed to be Old Man Logan, seeing how she went back to reread some of the pages. After that she grabbed the Skymall from the seat pocket and flipped through the pages. Honestly, how can you be on a plane and not read Skymall? For the most part, most of the products were pretty mundane...and moronic. A strip of fake grass for your dog to shit on? You kidding me with that?

When she flipped through the novelties section, there was something of interest. 'Little Washington' it was called. A doll marketed to what seemed to be children and collectors. Lottie read the description. The doll was photographed in a First Continental Army Uniform, the ones from 1776. It was posed with a bright, optimistic smile with its' left hand in a salute while the other held a little American flag. It was advertised as fully posable and even sung 'Yankee Doodle' if squeezed. Batteries were not included and it stood around two feet, Chucky's own height. There was a little blurb of text just below the price listing. 'Ask for the special XL edition, standing at 3'. Order today!' The price listing was $79.99, and a whole $110 for the XL edition. Damn, if only the 80s had dolls like this. Can you imagine how much more destructive Chucky would be? Lottie slipped the magazine pack into the seat pouch. She leaned back against the seat and exhaled. What else was there to do? As she blankly stared off towards the roof of the plane, Lottie could make out Shauna in the seat next to her looking at her in her peripheral vision.

"If you want to document me, at least use a camera," she said in good humor to Shauna. Ozzy's girlfriend blinked before taking her earbuds out and setting them aside.

"Even if I did, who would believe me?" she asked, rhetorically, "So...Lottie, huh?" Shauna found this awkward. She and Lottie had never really talked that much. Than again, the only time she really did share any dialogue with her or her family was when they extracted (I refuse to use the word rescue) her from her dorm and as we all know, that could've gone better.

"Hmmm," Lottie hummed, "You don't like me that much, do you?"

"Am I supposed to?" Shauna with the rhetorics. Lottie shrugged.

"It's not a requirement," there was a brief silence between the two here, "I hear from Osborne you're into roller derbies. Is that so?" Smart move, Lottie. Making it about her.

"You really want to know about that?" Shauna asked.

"We got time to kill. Why not?" Lottie said, "Besides, I never met a roller girl before. I didn't even know they still have those. Are you a member of a league?"

"No," Shauna shook her head, "Just a club I do after classes and on the weekends. I skate for the thrill, the sport and maybe a little for the roughness...it's one thing to hurt someone else. But hurting someone else when you got a rink full of people either cheering for you or trying to hurt you back, and they say football is rough."

"Sounds like you do it to vent anger...would you say you're an angry person, Shauna?" Lottie lowered the armrest between herself and Shauna and leaned on it, listening with interest.

"I've taken classes on that." was all she would say. Lottie could see that she hit a dead end. Time to change the subject.

"How did someone like you meet someone like Osborne?" she asked, "I could tell he doesn't go to your school. No judgement, I just want to know." Shauna gave her a weird look.

"Why would you want to know that?"

"I've grown to know Osborne," Lottie said, "I think I kind of want to know you to, seeing how my family and I now have to work double time to keep you both alive. And...I've always had a soft spot for stories like that. My mom always tells me about how her and my dad met. Back when they were in grade school. Dad was the quiet social outcast and mom was the new girl from New Jersey. She saw him and just fell. She pestered him until he just broke and let her in. And they've been together ever since."

"Knowing your parents, that story probably gets dark really, really fast.

"Oh, it does. It does," Lottie nodded, "What about yours and Osborne's?"

"Nothing much, actually." Shauna said, "We matched on Tinder."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, we just matched on Tinder."

"That's it?" Lottie asked, a bit underwhelmed.

"Pretty much," Shauna smirked, "One Saturday or maybe Sunday night, I was swiping and got a match. He was my fourth match and I was his seventh. We met at the rink, went back to his place, smoked a bit and...how old are you?"

"Ten."

"Hmmm, I'm not gonna tell you the rest."

"You don't need to...I know."

"Wha?"

"Saw my parents at it..." Lottie silenced a gag.

"Oh...damn. That's uh...tough." Shauna didn't know what to say.

"The fact that my dad was in his doll body and my mom was in Jennifer Tilly's body-"

"I already go to anger management class, don't make me go into psychotherapy," Shauna stopped her.

"Apologizes," Lottie giggled, "So, from there on out, did you and Osborne just feel something click and decided to stay together?"

"Firstly, to answer your question; yes. He began coming to my derbies on the reg and we got to know each other more and what we got is pretty magical, at least in Ozzy's words. Second, you ask a lot of questions about love lives. Lottie...have you ever been in love?" Lottie hid what would've been the largest look of astonishment, but kept her ground.

"Again, I'm ten...so no," she said.

"C'mon, every little girl dreams of meeting her prince one day. You must have, growing up as Jennifer Tilly's daughter living in a fancy mansion and all. You can tell me. I've told you about me, so it's only fair if you tell me about you." Lottie was silent for a moment, mentally weighing her thoughts.

"I guess, I could tell you...but it's not what you think." Her voice became quieter here and Shauna caught on.

"Should I brace myself? This is the tragic backstory isn't it?" Lottie looked at her funny.

"Shauna, I've lived the life of a daughter of an Oscar nominated actress. My backstory is anything but tragic."

"Oh...continue." Lottie sighed nostalgically.

"My siblings and I, we all had lives before this. The world almost seemed too perfect...save for the serial killer dad posing as a children's toy popping in for a visit between whatever bloodlusted escapades he went on. We went to school, we had our interests and people who cared about us. Glenda had some degree of friends but also plenty of enemies. Nothing she couldn't handle. Glen, now he's the one with the tragic backstory, got on his feet relatively well. I think he was an outcast too, but he was totally fine with it. He too had friends and even a girlfriend actually. Julie, I remember when he would bring her over to the house. He met her at the Anime club after school."

Shauna chuckled here.

"Right? And then there was myself...born into the Tilly fortune. It almost seems like another lifetime ago," Lottie pinched at her plastic hide again, "Wow...I'm getting back of my head emotional about this..."

"You don't have to tell me everything, Lottie," Shauna spoke softly, a bit too soft for herself, "I just want his name...and I know there is a him."

"Timothy..." Lottie said, finally, "His name was Timothy. And no he wasn't a boyfriend, just a friend. Can't tell you how many times I had to tell Glenda that.

"Just a friend?" Shauna asked.

"Just a friend," Lottie repeated, "We had classes together. A select few of my classmates would speak to me and he was one of them. I scared them apparently, the way I walked and looked at people. I could've done something about that..but no I was comfortable. If me being comfortable made others uncomfortable than something's wrong, and not with me. Timothy understood that." Lottie noticed the small smile on Shauna's lips. She gave her an unamused look, much akin to her father's.

"You're just picturing him and I together and find it cute, aren't you?"

"Yeah, very much," said Shauna, "You guys do anything together?"

"Everything," Lottie said, "We'd work on art projects together, play during recess...the schoolyard actually had a frisbee golf course and we always would have to hold a tiebreaker. Really funny story actually, we have a strict play it where it lies rule and Timothy somehow threw it on the slide this one time, so he had to stand on the slope and throw the frisbee to the basket fifteen yards away," Lottie laughed bit at the memory, Shauna gave a chuckle too, "Yeah...we'd do things for the holidays too; trick or treating during Halloween, egg hunts during Easter, just everything. Other friends came and went, but Timothy, he stayed."

"What happened to him?" Shauna asked, trying to be sensitive.

"Nothing." Lottie said, bluntly.

"Nothing?"

"Yes, nothing," Lottie affirmed, "I know that he is still alive and well right now, and it's going to stay that way."

"Does...he know about-"

"No, he thinks I'm dead. And once again, it's going to stay that way. When we had to leave behind the Tillys because of this whole thing, I made sure the Shadowmen wouldn't be able to find him. After transferring our souls into these bodies we had time. I remember Glen taking everything Julie had ever given him and anything that could be traced back to here and burning it in the firepit in the backyard. He knew that they would come after anyone who we've been in contact with. I burned everything related to Timothy too; pictures of us, gifts, contact info, everything. And as soon as everything was ash, I saw Glen go over to our dad. And he grabbed him by his overall straps and said, 'If anything happens to Julie, then you're gonna take that to your fucking grave.' Then he took out his blade and pressed it to his side and he said again, 'Your fucking grave.'"

"Damn, what did your dad say?"

"He told Glen how proud he was of him..of course he would."

"So Timothy's alive, but he thinks you're dead?"

"As it should be."

"But you're alive and well, here, when we land you can call him and tell him that you're ok." Lottie folded her arms.

"Shauna, that is possibly the most stupidest thing I could ever do."

"Wouldn't you want to see him again?"

"If there was a way, then yes. But there isn't. If I get back into contact with him, then the Shadowmen could find him."

"We're going to Chicago," Shauna said, "They'll all follow us there and there won't be any left in L.A. But Lottie, I don't think it's because of that. I think you can't call him because you don't want to." Lottie took her arms off the armrest and fell back. She was silent before running her hand through her hair and sighing.

"You'd be right, Shauna," she said, "Look at me. I don't want him to see me like this. And I won't let the past repeat itself."

"This happened before?"

With my parents," said Lottie, "My mom thought my dad was dead, and she had a chance at a normal life. But she didn't decide to take it. My existence, Glen and Glenda's, are because of her refusal to do so. You can't look at my parents and say that they will be ok. Us, living as monsters and leaving a wake of bodies in every place we go to. You think Shadowmen are the only people my dad's going to kill in Chicago. I can't take Timothy being apart of this life I'm living, he's too good for it. So I-"

"You let him go," Shauna finished. Lottie nodded.

"My mom always told me to never make the same mistakes as she and my dad did...and I won't. If I grow up and I'm like my parents...I will be very unhappy."

"Wow...that's actually really mature, Lottie. I respect the hell out of you." And Shauna thought she was hardcore.

"I thank you kindly for that Shauna," said Lottie.

"Attention all passengers, we are now beginning our descent into Chicago O'Hare International Airport. Approximate landing time in thirty minutes. Flight attendants, please prepare for landing." The captain on the intercom announced. Ozzy, who had been silently drawing off to the side, took off his headphones.

"What did I miss?" he asked Shauna.

"Just about to land soon," she said, "How's the drawing coming?"

"I finished most of the penciling." A flight attendant almost appeared out of nowhere in the aisle with a white garbage bag.

"Mr. and Ms., you have anything you want to throw away?"  
Ozzy took out a couple of Sprite cans from his seat pocket. He reached over and took some of the other ones that Shauna offered to him. Lottie sat in the middle of them, now in static barbie mode, how she would remain until the plane lands.

"Thank you," the flight attendant said as she walked away, "cute doll by the way."

"Don't we know it?" Shauna said to who Ozzy assumed was himself.

* * *

After once again, trekking across an airport, collecting their one piece of luggage from the claim and then taking forty five minutes to rent a Hertz car because renting a vehicle is rocket science. Ozzy, Shauna and Lottie were on their way out of the terminal with Ozzy in the driver's seat.

"Ok, we're a good distance away, let them out." Ozzy told Shauna. And Shauna unzipped the bag in the back seat of the Mustang (drive out in style amiright? Sky's the limit if you have a credit card that doesn't belong to you). Chucky, Tiffany and the twins quickly climbed out.

"Fuck...it was getting dank in there, and I'm not talking about the humidity," Chucky commented,

"Lottie!"

Lottie climbed from the front to the back and embraced her parents.

"How was the flight?" Tiffany asked her.

"It was just fine." Lottie glanced over to the passenger seat where Shauna sat and smiled. The skater girl smiled back.

"Well, here we are in Chi-city," Glenda pressed her head to the window, "Is Lollapalooza in town?"

"We're a month late," Ozzy said, "Where do we go from here, Chucky?"

"Just keep driving Ozzy, we need to get to the city first. From there, I'll get us where we need to go."

"And where's that?"

"Jo-"

"Glenda! Stop touching me!" Glen shouted.

"I want the window seat!" his twin sister shouted back.

"Stop making a big deal out of everything!" Glen gave her a push away. Glenda didn't fall off the seat, but something did fall out of her dress pocket. A small rustic screw. Her dad pointed at it.

"Glenda, is that...the screw from Shauna's dorm when we were in the vents?" he asked.

"Uh...yes." Glenda quickly pocketed it again.

"Why the fuck would you still have that?" her dad asked, peeved.

"Dad, I took this screw for a number of reasons...the most dominant one being that it was shiny."

"Ok...sure, just don't poke me with that. You might give me tetanus"

"HOLY SHIT!" Ozzy suddenly pulled over to the road shoulder. The Mustang screeched violently, both from the sudden breaking and rough concrete on the shoulder before coming to a complete stop.

"WHAT!?" Literally everyone in the car shouted.

"TECHNUS! The scientist ghost from Danny Phantom! That's his name! Oh...oh yes, that was eating away at me for the entire flight."


	9. Homecoming Part III

**AN:** **And we back, and we back, and we back. Special shout out to CharlotteRay for the beautiful, beautiful cover she has blessed us with and the OC who continues to grace this fanfic with her presence. Also, got a little mini game in this chapter for y'all. Spot the Always Sunny references. If you don't watch Always Sunny, that's totally ok. As the cashier at Binny's always says when I pick up my special order whiskey, enjoy.**

Ivan Burton was never a man of prayer, be it silent or verbal. His sermons were usually "practical" whenever he needed to address the Order of the Serpent. The sacred order he had governed himself for nearly 200 years. You didn't think that the middle aged man with grey highlights he had chosen to possess was his first body, did you?

The Deacon never had a true church establishment. The state or country as a whole would probably disagree with the ethics of a religion which required human sacrifice daily. Burton had chosen a four leveled manor, with a portion of the Lake Michigan beach as his back yard. A poet had once lived in that house, and Cook County had it registered as a landmark. That's what Burton got, snatching the body of a wealthy model citizen of the lakeshore. Only a selected few of his Shadowmen were allowed to stay with him. He knows some degree of magic, obviously, appears as an older man, has devote followers, really the only thing he was missing was a mastery in alchemy and a laboratory. Then he could've been a full on Rasputin.

He sat alone in the room overlooking the beach. The other half of the Heart of Damballa was clenched in his grip as he ran his thumb over the red gemstone. It felt cold and frosty to the touch. If he had the other half, the one in his disgraced apprentice's possession, it would emit such heat if pressure was applied it would leave red burns on his fingerprints. In his other hand was a cigarette, fourth one of the day.

"Your Holiness." a church member of much less significant status suddenly stood at his side, his posture not breaking once. Burton didn't look up. That was to be expected, he never looked his Shadowmen in the eyes. Gives them the idea that they're equals and that is a very dangerous idea to have.

"I thought I told you to never call me that...there is nothing 'Holy' about what we do, son." Had you heard his voice in a pitch black room, than your first guess would be a demon.

"Forgiveness," the Shadowman bowed his head, "We've heard back from the ones in California."

"Hmmm." Was all Burton had to say, urging him to continue.

"Our numbers out there have certainly…lessened." He couldn't see it, but Burton was smirking.

"That is to be expected. Praise is in order, but it's not you who will be receiving it."

"Oh, we will be in time, Deacon." The Shadowman produced a cubed shaped parcel from under his apparel. One so small, you could hold it in one hand. Burton bothered to raise his glance to it. The Shadowman removed the lid. Inside packed with bubble wrap, the one with the really small bubbles that are no fun at all, was an Iphone 5.

"The gesture is appreciated, barely," he said, scoffing, "I already have one."

"This came from our California agents, it belonged to the Acolyte's consort, Deacon." The Shadowman quickly explained. Here, Burton quickly pocketed the Heart and rose from where he sat, tossing what little remained of the cigarette to the floor.

"The Acolyte has a consort? This is an interesting development," he said, "But what significance is this to me? You don't expect us to just call him up, do you?"

"No, no, Deacon," the Shadowman shook his head, "We now know where he is." He powered on the phone and swiped past the lock screen. Shauna didn't have a passcode, she found them unnecessary. In a way, she was the passcode because the only way to get her phone from her is to pry it from her cold dead hands.

The Shadowman opened the 'find my iphone' app on the homescreen. Shauna had downloaded it as Ozzy did too. Not for the sake for stalking each other but for the event in which a drug deal was sketchy. He selected the number under 'Ozzy' and the map screen began to load. It opened to the North Shore and the city, not too far away. A blue pin appeared on the Ryan expressway with Ozzy's name above it as it moved towards the city. Burton snatched the phone from him.

"He's come home," the Deacon smirked, "He's come home and he's brought the Acolyte right to me."

"Should we converge on him?" the Shadowman asked. Burton lowered the phone as he paced around.

"No. You see, it's not getting the Acolyte which will be difficult. It will be taking him from my former apprentice. He's twice the killer than you and your brothers will ever be."

"What do you propose, Deacon?"

"Tell me, my son, are you familiar with how the electric chair works?"

"It shocks you," the Shadowman said simply, "It shocks you until your heart bursts in your chest."

"You're correct and incorrect," Burton mused, "You see, it actually shocks you twice. The first shock is to paralyze you. This is so you can't fight back or struggle. You're helpless as the second and final shock hits you. This is the killing blow. And it's not your heart that bursts, it's your brain ceasing operation before telling your heart to shut it down for good."

"Your point is made vividly, Deacon."

"You see? We must send our first shock."

"Just say the word, Deacon, your Shadowmen are ready."

"No Shadowmen are necessary, my son," Burton waved him off, "In fact, I think it's time to introduce my former apprentice to my new apprentice...get me Ms. LaGarrette.

* * *

"This is the place?" Shauna glanced out the passenger window as Ozzy parked the car out in front of the decrypted old home. Well, home implies that someone lives there. But no one does, at least not anymore. Chucky had seen to that. This house had the traditional Chicago style brickwork, done rather cheaply. From the outside, you would never guess that it had a second floor. The back and front yard was littered with trash, some neatly packed in white trash bags forming mounds or just strewn about the Earth. Such was common in areas of southern Chicago.

They had come to a section of the South Side from the airport. The drive through the city could've been more enjoyable for Ozzy and Shauna, had Chucky not spent the entire ride pointing out every place he committed a murder(s) of some sort and then monologuing about it. They haven't even been to Chicago and it was already ruined for them.

A notable location Chucky seemed to have an extended commentary on was an apartment complex a little way from Grant Park. A site of a triple rape homicide. Chucky had no part in the act itself, but was rather a member of the cleaning crew. The murder was courtesy of his old partner in crime, Eddie Capullo and Felicia. Felicia was Tiffany's older sister.

Back in the time of old when men were bold, Chucky and Tiffany tried their hands at matchmaking. They hooked Eddie up with Felicia in hopes that he would stop third wheeling them. Felicia had just flown in for a visit. Yes, she was aware of who her sister was dating and what they do. She wasn't indifferent about it. When they were young, their parents divorced. Their mother got Tiffany while their father got Felicia, he got second pick. He wasn't a good father, that's all I'll say. If I wanted to sit around and write tragic backstories, I'd sign up for DeviantArt. That aside, Eddie and Felicia. It started out ok, Eddie stopped bugging Chucky and Tiffany all the time. Then they got really into exhibtionism and there was this steady but constant crescendo into swinger parties and ultimately positive VD examinations. And the whole time Eddie was screwing the waitresses at Ed Debevic's. Wait...no, that's a terrible fanfiction idea, don't run with that.

Ozzy was sure to lock the rental Mustang as he, his girlfriend and the Rays got out, pressing the lock button the keys three times exactly as he counted in his head. He pocketed the keys then sniffed.

"Smells like home," he commented. Being a section eight regular, he wasn't a total stranger to lifestyle the former occupant had been stuck with. Pretty sure Chucky was familiar with it too. The slasher crossed his arms as he scanned the property. It was surreal for him, last time he was here was and seemed so long ago.

"This is the place," he affirmed, "Jon's shack. Whatever Burton didn't teach me, I learned here."

"Jon?" Ozzy felt a secondhand sting of memory on the back of his head. That name...where have I heard that before.

"My voodoo instructor," said Chucky.

"How's this house still here?" Shauna asked.

"This land's value is practically nothing," Chucky explained, "Plus no one wants to live here anyway. Some of the locals think that it's cursed too. Honestly, if a Haitian witch doctor moved into your neighborhood would you believe in that superstition shit?" Ozzy shrugged.

"There's a scientologist that lives one floor below me, I think he's the closest thing we got to a witch doctor. So, what are we doing at a witch doctor's trap?"

"Jon had a shitload of voodoo paraphernalia. If we're lucky maybe he had the Soul of Damballa or maybe a lead on where it might be."

While the Rays quickly made their way to Jon's doorstep, Ozzy and Shauna lagged behind and met them halfway. Ozzy tugged at the door knob, locked. Chucky came forward and kicked it a couple times but to no avail. The knob was one of those old time brass ovals with a keyhole above it.

"Glenda," Chucky commanded. His oldest daughter pulled out a hairpin, previously unseen, probably because her frizzy hair is so freaking dense. She stuck it in the keyhole, rotated it a little then slammed it down. A loud click was heard and the door opened as it should..

"Wow, where did you learn to do that?" Ozzy was a bit impressed.

"I practiced on your room at the motel, Dreadie," Glenda said with a smile too big for her own face, "No skill needed. I just slam it in and break the lock mechanism." Ozzy remained silent. If anything was done to him while he slept...he really didn't want to know about.

"Why is it that everytime you open your mouth, I'm just itching to punch you in the box." Shauna growled.

"Fight me, bitch." Glenda attempted to square up to here, but it just didn't work.

"Save this fuck shit for later," Chucky waved them off and invited them in the house. He wouldn't say it out loud, but he was wooed by the fact that Shauna didn't show fear at them, the same could be said for Ozzy.

The interior was only lit by the sunlight through the windows, or at least where they used to be. There was one window in the kitchen area that was unbroken though. The first floor occupied most of the space and there was a basement. The second floor was simply a staircase that lead up to a bedroom and bathroom (the only one in the house). Nearly everything in the house had collected dust and fallen into disrepair. No water, electricity or heating. The temperature inside depended entirely on what the weather person forecasted. Chucky wasn't wrong about the voodoo paraphernalia. This place was a treasure trove of relics. Paintings, dolls, ceremonial dressing, all either propped on a piece of furniture, hidden in drawers or just laying on the floor. Jon's body was of course not there anymore. Shortly after Chucky killed him the CPD had discreetly removed it, but there was still traces of dried blood stained on the dusty carpet.

"Ok," Chucky whistled, "This is going to take some scavenging."

"Oh!" Glenda pulled down Ozzy's hand, "Me and Dreadie will search the bedroom! I bet we'll find something there."

"Glenda, no," her dad interjected.

"Glenda, yes. C'mon, Dreadie."

"Shouldn't I have a say in this?" Ozzy aimlessly asked. Chucky, with effort, separated Glenda from him.

"You're searching upstairs with Lottie and that's all she wrote," he told her.

"Fuck that! Why?"

"Because she's the only thing close to a sitter we have for you at the moment."

"I'm six years older than her!"

"In body maybe," Glen couldn't help but insert himself in this quarrel, "In mind, though, you're still in your salad days." He had some leverage here, he was after all older than his twin, at least by a couple of minutes. Glenda feigned, or at least let's hope so, offense.

"Mom! Glen just called me a salad!"

Tiffany rested her forehead in her hand. Normally, she tried her best to not take sides, but when it came to Glenda it was tricky. Not because she never supported her, she loves her children to death, but sometimes the situations conjured up by Glenda are usually...well, stupid.

"Lottie, sweetie, will you and Glenda please go upstairs? We got a house to search, please help us help you," she said sweetly.

"We got it, mom," Lottie said and headed to the second floor. "Let's go, salad," she called to Glenda, who just folded her arms and tailed her younger sister.

"I'm up to here right now," Glenda gestured her hand above her head, "I am up to here."

"Fantastic," Chucky nodded, "Glen, I need something of you."

"You want me to search the bathrooms, right?" his only son asked rhetorically. That was a pretty good guess, his father usually leaves him to do tasks like that in hopes it will make his stomach stronger. Serial killer lesson number one; be disgusted with nothing.

"No, but let's keep that on the table," Chucky motioned to the window, "Go outside and rummage through any shit by the house. Leave no stone unturned, and I really do mean that. You find a stone out there, turn it over. Sometimes Jon would throw some of his wizard shit out." Glen glanced outside and the trash filled property. His dad might as well have told him to go dumpster diving.

"Yeah, dad, I'm not going to do that. I'm not frolicing in the rubbish for something that may not be there. I'm just going to look around here just like everyone else."

Chucky exhaled easily. Completely, calm and collected he made his way over to his son. As he passed by he effortlessly snatched Glen's tanto clean off his back. The blade was still in its sheath. Glen didn't have the chance to say anything, let alone react, as Chucky threw it through the one good window the house had. The glass shattered and a small thump was heard somewhere out in the yard.

"Son," Chucky said nonchalantly, "It looks like you left your little sword thing outside. You better go get it. And while you're out, could you look around too? The Soul of Damballa might be out there too. Be a good boy and sniff it out."

Glen didn't say anything at first. He did raise his index finger and open his mouth as if to say something, but no words came through. Sighing, he just slumped over to the front door. Before he shut it behind him, he raised his finger once more...then lowered it.

"Still a better dad than mine," Ozzy said. Insert horrible repressed memories of childhood here.

"Thank you, I try," Chucky smiled, "Now, Tiff, you and Shauna do a sweep of the first floor, while Ozzy and I do the basement."

"Wait, why am I going into the basement with you?" Ozzy glanced over at the open door on the opposite side of the room with a stairwell leading into a dark abyss. That's actually the last place you want to be with Chucky.

"Oh yeah, because there's a possibility that if Tiff and I go down there we're probably gonna start fucking right there on the spot. And time's sort of a factor here, so I don't think we have two hours."

"We probably would." Tiffany shrugged.

"W-why, though?" Shauna cringed.

"I'm sexually attracted to my wife," Chucky deadpanned, "Fuck me, right? Now, let's go, Ozzy. Down to the basement," he suddenly stopped right where he was, only inches from the stairs, "Holy shit…."  
"What?" Ozzy gasped.

"Wow...this is the first time someone's accompanying me to a basement...and I have no intention of killing them...fuck," Chucky put a hand to his head, "This...this feels weird as shit...mmm. Tiff, does this feel weird to you?"

"Yeah," his wife subtly nodded, "It does. It does feel pretty weird."

* * *

Glen grumbled to himself as he cleared another leaky bag of trash out of his way. Two more years. Two more years, he kept telling himself. While he could admit to himself that his future was unclear, he knew as a fact it wouldn't involve his family a whole lot. As soon as he turns eighteen, he's out. What he would do and where he would go wasn't set in stone but he did hope to go traveling. Now in his doll body, sneaking on and off flights or ships was like having priority access. If he could manage getting from England to LA than the sky was the limit. He'd always thought about going to Japan. But not in a weeaboo way. In a 'I'm going to start a new life there way. Once all this is over, the whole world is waiting for him. Glen loved his family dearly, his mother, father and siblings, he'd die for them. It's not the killing that bothers him, he could avoid it, it's the metaphorical descent to darkness. Whenever his father went out and did something, something far worse was to follow and Glen didn't know if he could take it. Everyday he drags his family down into the grave he has created for himself and this whole thing is proof of that.

"There you are," Glen sighed and dusted off his sheathed tanto then hugged it to his chest. His once rapid breathing became calm as he rocked back and forth where he sat in the dirty soil. He closed his eyes and kissed the hilt of his blade.

* * *

 _"Ok, we just got one more step, Glenda. C'mon work with us, here."_

 _Once upon a flashback, we see a fifteen year old Glen Tilly heading up to the second level of their Hollywood mansion. His girlfriend, Julie, was at his side. Well she was to his side. In between them, was a deeply inebriated Glenda, like her mind might as well has been displaced in another universe. She had her arms around her brother and his girlfriend as they assisted her drunk ass up to her room. Her head was dropped down and occasionally she smacked her lips for no particular reason._

 _"Huh...wazit?" she slurred._

 _"Come on, Glenda," Julie said supportively, "One more step and you can rest." Glenda's head suddenly shot up._

 _"Holy Shit, Julie!" she yelled, "Since when did you get here?"_

 _"I've been here since the beginning of the party…"_

 _"Party! Oh, I love parties! What's the occasion?" By now, Julie and Glen were able to heave Glenda up the last step. She was upright, but that doesn't mean her legs were working._

 _"Glen's birthday." Glenda gasped._

 _"OMG! Happy Birthday, Glen! Oh, he's a jolly good fellow. Oh, he's a jolly good fellow...wait...if it's your birthday...then doesn't that mean it's also mine!? Yes! Happy birthday to me! Happy birthday to me!"_

 _Yes, what we're witnessing is the aftermath of the twin's fifteenth birthday. While Glen insisted on a nice little get together at their house. Glenda saw fit to throw the biggest rager this section of LA has ever seen. Roughly, a quarter of their class showed up. Within a couple of minutes, a group of 15 sophomores and juniors evolved into an army of 75. It started out as your standard birthday party, then people started bring in booze, a pong table was set up, some girl brought her older brother who was a DJ. It was a spectacle, and things went from 1 to 10 really fast. In fact, Chucky made a celebrity appearance. He just sort of paraded about the party. No one questioned him and if they did, he either told them that he was a relative of the guy who played Mini-Me who was in a horrible, horrible car accident on account of the stitches. But more often than not he just convinced them that he was a hallucination due to the bath salts that were slipped into their drinks (whether or not bath salts were used has yet to be confirmed by Glenda or himself). Apparently it was a special occasion for Chucky too, because he set up his own codeine mini bar. His killing spree that night had led him to a pharmacy, so he took what he could get. He was seen later in the night at the pong table catching fire, much to the admiration of all the party goers. He is now affectionately called, 'the Kyle Korver of rut.' Tiffany, or rather Jennifer Tilly, was present along with Lottie, but they spent their time mostly in the house, making sure shit didn't get broken._

 _"Glen, Julie. Glen, Julie, Glen, Julie." Glenda does what she does best and begged for attention as Glen and Julie situated her in her bed. Following the protocol, setting her on her side, putting a trash can next to her, not that she would be needing it. Throughout the party, Glenda would constantly go inside to pull trig. It'd be surprising if she had anything left to upchuck._

 _"Glen, Julie. Julie, Glen-"_  
 _"What!?" Glen snapped, "What? We're right here."_

 _"...are you two going to bang tonight?" Glen face palmed while Julie blushed madly, hiding her face behind her hand._

 _"Jaysus Christ, Glenda."_

 _"No, really, Glen. I want to know...you smashing tonight? Julie you giving this boy something spesh tonight? Gonna be real harsh down south?"_

 _"Glenda, stop it," her brother pulled her covers over her and tucked her in, "You've really tested your limits tonight. Get some rest, or the hangover tomorrow really is going to suck." He placed a pillow under her head, cool side up. Glenda sighed as he let herself sink into her bed._

 _"That's better, right?"_

 _"Mmmm, sure…" Glenda yawned, her mouth reeked of Captain Morgan and beer. Julie and Glen got up to leave her to her sleep._

 _"Hey Glen," his twin called out._

 _"Yeah, sis?"_

 _"I just...I just love you so much...right now. You're a phenamom...phenanimal…" she struggled here, "phenomenal brother." Glenda has reached the final stage of her particular enbraitation, first comes belligerence then comes aggressive support, then finally warm cuddliness. Glen smiled._

 _"I love you, too, sis." Drunk rambling or not it was nice to hear her say that._

 _"You be good to him, Julie," Glenda then called to the other girl in the room, "He's one of a kind...you won't find a guy like him anywhere else. He's just-he's just such a swell guy."_

 _"Sure, sure," Julie nodded, "Of course." She wasn't used to dealing with drunk people but at least Glenda made it easy._

 _"Ok, G'night, Glenda." Glen closed the door behind them._

 _"Right…" Glenda waved, "You get some sleep too, handsome man."_

 _Sighing in relief, Glen and Julie made their way downstairs. They had a couple of minutes before Julie's mom or dad would pick her up. Sitting outside didn't seem like an option, the yard or what little was left of it was completely demolished. Gardens uprooted, bottles and cans littered about...it was a good party. So instead they settled for the couch in the living room, but before Julie went into the coat room and came out with a wrapped present._

 _"What's that?" Glen asked her as she sat down next to him._

 _"Happy Birthday, Glen!" Julie kissed his cheek and put the present in his lap, "I was waiting until after the party to give this to you. When it would be just us."_

 _"Awww, luv," Glen put his arms around her and pulled her in, giving her a peck on the forehead, "That's so sweet."_

 _"Open it," Julie insisted, "you'll love it."_

 _Glen did so, tearing the paper down the middle and removing it from the box. Inside, cushioned against foam, was a little sheathed blade. The hilt was smooth and marble like, while the sheath was glossy black. So glossy you could see your reflection._

 _"Julie...is this?" Glen took the blade out of its sheath. The metal grazed against each other, making that really satisfying sound whenever a weapon is drawn. Shing, I think it goes._

 _"It's a tanto!" Julie said, "It's like a katana, but smaller." Glen picked up a piece of the wrapping paper and glided the blade across. Not even the littlest of pressure was applied and it still cut like butter. No, way more easier than that._

 _"I," Glen grinned as he held it, "I don't know what to say...I love it, but isn't it a bit much?" Julie smiled and shook her head._

 _"No, I think it's just right," she said, "I know you don't collect weaponry. And I know you're a pacifist. But I just always thought of you as well...my hero," Glen tilted his head as he put the tanto back in it's sheath, "I used to be afraid, you know. Afraid to put myself out there, afraid to show my face, even afraid to speak...but then I met you. Joining the Anime club is a big, big deal. You put your reputation, what everyone thinks of you on the line just so you could appreciate the things you love and be around people like you. And then you come along, Jennifer Tilly's son, you join up like it's nothing. Like you have no one to please or disappoint. You just do yourself despite what anyone tells you." Julie shifted herself onto him, laying him down on his back while she put her head on his chest. His heart was fluttering against her ear._

 _"But I love you most of all because you make room in your crazy celebrity life for little ol' me," she laughed, "Look at us, we're just two weeaboos falling in love." Glen brushed his forehead against hers._

 _"In love," he corrected, "We've already fallen." Julie giggled and leaned in for a kiss. Glen gladly returned it, holding her head while gently caressing her back. Julie had her hands flattened on his chest where her head had once been. The kiss wasn't intense or heated. It was a smooth and soft closed mouth lip embrace. When they separated, Julie nuzzled the crook of his neck._

 _"I love you, Glen," she whispered, "I love you so much."_

 _"Love you too, Julie," Glen sighed lovingly, "Guess I'm your Samurai, huh?" He could feel Julie's warming breathing on his neck._

 _"Samurai...who would be your master then?" she asked._

 _"Huh?"_

 _"Samurai always have masters. Someone who teaches them the ways of honor and peace...do you have someone like that?" Glen paused. Honestly, he didn't have to think long on it._

 _"No...I guess I don't," he said, "My mom did what she could, but sometimes we can't help butting heads on certain things...and my dad...well if he was around, I'm not sure what he would have to offer." The Ray kids had to get their story straight for the public; Ms. Tilly was a single mother._

 _"No master then...that would make you a Ronin," said Julie._

 _"Ronin?"_

 _"Yeah, Ronin. Samurai with no master." Glen laughed. It was funny because it was true. He cupped her cheek._

 _"Ronin it is, then."_

 _"私のロニン.?" (My Ronin?)_

 _"あなたのロニン." (Your Ronin)_

* * *

Glen wiped the tear from his plastic face. His grip on the tanto had only gotten tighter. He took long breaths to calm his rapidly beating heart, the kind you get from excessive sobbing. He then secured his blade over his shoulder once more and stood up.

The oldest Ray curled his hand into a fist and beat it twice against his chest. No flinching or gasping, just taking the blows with authority. Ronin. Ronin. Repeated fiercely in his mind. After the final beat, he lowered his hands to his side. His breathing subsided and he felt once more at peace, remembering that he is his own master.

"I'm ok...I'm good," Glen breathed. He would've returned back to Jon's house, had it not be for the low growl from behind him.

"Wha?"

A stray mastiff, stood with its back arched, teeth bared and brow furrowed. Judging by the foam around this monster's mouth, it probably wasn't a well dog. Yeah, the red eyes couldn't have been from cannabis and the way it spasmed sure as hell wasn't the high setting in. Glen gulped.

"Nice, doggy...nice-"  
The dog barked maliciously, spit flew from its maw in all directions while the foam continued to puddle at it's paws.

"Look, I'm just going to-" Glen attempted to walk past it, but the dog simply wasn't having it. It walled him in, blocking every direction possible. It then leaned on its hind legs as if it was getting ready to pounce.

"I'm sorry…." and Glen reached for his tanto.

* * *

Ozzy was more invested in the desk he was examining on the far side of the basement level. A partner desk made of antique pine wood. The handles on the drawers were brassy and reeked of rusted metal. The worst kind of scent, you touch it then your hand smells like it. Even though a thick layer of dust covered it, the surface was smooth. Ozzy ran his hand over it.

Other than that, the basement didn't have much objects of interest. One furnace that had fallen into disuse and broken or discarded junk in boxes that cluttered the cement floor.

"Hey Chucky, did you-" Much to Ozzy's uneasiness, Chucky was nowhere to be seen. C'mon it was already spooky enough surveying the dimmed cellar, but at least Chucky was visible in his peripheral vision. Ozzy glanced around in cluelessness.

"Chucky…" he moaned, "Don't do this, I scare easy….Chucky?"

"AHH!" the moment Ozzy turned back to the desk, Chucky was standing on it. The slasher yelped out and lunged at him.

"Fuck! Shit!" Ozzy jumped back. Chucky pointed and laughed.

"Hahaha, that never gets old."

"C'mon, that shit ain't cool."

"Hey, just making sure you're still afraid," Chucky shrugged, "Now, while you were over here, molesting this desk, I tore this place apart. The amulet ain't here." Ozzy popped open a couple of the drawers.

"Well, I haven't checked here...so…" when he got to the bottom drawer, his eyes lit up, "Oh!"

"What? You find it?"

"No...even better."

From the drawer Ozzy produced a pipe of some sort. It was a pretty standard bowl by the looks of it. What was so unstandard about it was the fact it was carved from ivory. _Moment of silence for the elephant that gave its life for our smoking pleasure._ The bowl was a couple centimeters deep while the body had sort of archaic symbols cut into it. The tip was fashioned into a snake head. It's mouth was closed and the hole was between its lips, taking a hit made it look like the user was kissing the snake. Chucky snickered at it.

"Jon, you fucking rascal, you." Ozzy breathed in through the pipe. For something so old, the air flow was consistent and easy, what every stoner looks for.

"I don't suppose that somewhere in that voodoo religion you got, there's any mention of a bowl with magical properties, is there?"

"Not that I'm aware of, no." Chucky shook his head. Ozzy smirked.

"Well, there's only one way to find out, isn't there?" The Acolyte took a cross legged on the basement floor. He brought out his bag and the all wonderful musk of ganja was unchained. Ozzy checked his one lighter too, flicking it on and off as the little flame danced. Chucky dropped down from the desk. Cat metaphor number three; he landed on his feet.

"Do you ever think of anything else besides getting high as shit all the time?" Ozzy was going through the ziplocks of varying strains.

"I think about whether or not I'm gonna make it out of this shit show we got going on here alive. Truthfully, I'm leaning to a happy ending. I want to live, you know? Living's something I like doing. Been doing it since I was a kid, really have a talent for it. I don't know how much longer we're gonna be in this together, but I'm going to be real weird with it. In the meantime, can you help me block this draft I'm feeling right now? I'm gonna roast this grass."

Chucky again shrugged and took a seat by him then snatched the ivory bowl from his hand.

"I'm onboard," he said, "But I get first drag and strain pick."

"Fair deal," nodded Ozzy, "So...what I got here, we got Child's Play, you're familiar with that, am I right?" He took a couple of selected bags containing quads.

"This one right here," he held up a bag, "'Hey Little Mama, Would You Like To Be My Sunshine' This is the stuff Shauna and I rip on date nights." Ozzy picked up another bag after placing it back down, "This one here is 'I Have A Paper Due In The Morning'. There's a few other variants I have of this like 'How Long Has That Door Been Open', and this other one called 'Down Goes Frazier'. Chucky chose the previously mentioned.

"Now pass me that bowl."

* * *

Tiffany was standing on the kitchen counter while Shauna was clearing out the drawers and cabinets. About a quarter of the way through, she stopped opening and closing them and just took them out of their sockets and dumping out the contents. They hadn't come across any amulet. Tiffany struggled a bit to get one cabinet above the counter open. It was either molded shut or it had one of those latch locks in place on the inside. Ozzy's girlfriend couldn't help but notice.

"Here." Shauna pulled at the stubborn door a couple times. No good. She sighed and simply ripped the door off it's hinges and discarded it to the floor. The hinges were so rusty that they tore like construction paper. That, and Shauna lifts.

"You're strong," Tiffany took the time to appreciate that.

"So I have been told," Shauna said, "I like to think that I'm just like every other girl, except I can press 120." They scanned the cabinet. The amulet wasn't there, just rusted food cans and a few rat skeletons. One of the rat skulls was actually in a spider web in the corner. The spider was long dead and left an egg sac behind, but it had already hatched. The two sighed in defeat, that was the last place they had to look.

"Hope they're having better luck in this place then we are," said Shauna, "Hey, Tiffany, can I ask you something?"

"Anything but my weight," smiled Tiffany.

"Where do you stand on this?" Shauna asked with sincerity, "This whole Acolyte prophecy thing. What could you possibly get from it? Because it seems like you're just following whatever Chucky says." Tiffany gracefully pushed herself off the counter.

"I think my Chucky knows what he's doing. There's never a time when we're in these situations and I doubt him. I don't care if the world lives or dies, as long as I'm with my husband and my children, I'm the happiest girl on Earth."

"So, you really have no other motives do you? You're not doing this to get back at the cult or that Burton guy Chucky is always talking about or just for the sake of killing a shit ton of people. You're just going the extra mile to please your husband."

"Well, a wife's main concern is her husband's happiness." And that might as well be Tiffany's main concern as well. It may not seem it, but she was actually in a really good place in her life. She's learned to stop wanting, because she simply has all she wants. It's hard to have desires when you've already done everything. In her life she's been a girl raised in a lower middle class, a trailer park chick and a celebrity. Oh, and let's not forget accomplice to a serial killer and maybe even a serial killer herself. But most of all, she's had the life of a mother, and that life is her favorite.

Speaking of her children, it was this time when Glen let himself back in through the front door. He was shaken up and was under the impression that no one else was in the room. He closed the door softly behind him before being greeted by his mother and Shauna.

"Oh.." his eyes fixated on them like a deer in headlights, "Hi mum...Shauna, hi. The um...amulet wasn't outside." He attempted to casually make his way to the stairs. Shauna and Tiffany couldn't see it, but his hand was clutching his left side. He walked directly against the wall to hide it, "Lottie and Glenda are upstairs, right? I'll just go help them out up there."

"Glen, sweetface, are you ok?" Tiffany asked her son. Glen forced a smile.

"Yes, yes, I'm completely fine. Just tripped on some rubbish out there...landed on my side...nothing to worry about," he was now at the stairs, "I'm gonna go upstairs now." And like that, he was up to the second floor hastily. Shauna gave Tiffany a funny look.

"What was all that about?"

* * *

Lottie was in the middle of cleaning out the chifferobe across the bed. Nothing there but various clothing that was molded to shit. There was a shirt of some kind that used to be yellow and was now brown. Part of it even came apart in her hand when she picked it up. There was only one more drawer to go. Lottie hoped to god that it wasn't the underwear one.

"Lottie!" Glenda suddenly emerged from beneath the bed holding something, "I found an old cassette tape under the mattress!" She held said item up proudly.

"So?"

"So? An old tape in a voodoo wizard's house? Who knows what could be on this thing? Maybe recordings of spells! Like one where you could unleash a plague of snakes! Or one that summons a demon! Or maybe one that gives you supernatural powers like talking to the dead or some shit! We're even looking at necromancy 101!"

"What if it's just some shameless mixtape of bubblegum pop music from the 80s?" said Lottie. Glenda's face dropped.

"Why can't you just let me have this moment for myself?"

"Hey, I'm not saying that it is mixtape, just that it might be. But I guess we'll never know since we don't have a tape player, which actually surprises me that I know what that is." She was born in 2007, can you blame her? Lottie would have eaten those words, because in that final drawer she didn't check was indeed a cassette tape player complete with headphones. Stars must've been aligned. Glenda grabbed it and took a seat on the floor.

"Yes! Ultimate power is mine!" she popped it in and tweaked with the player so it would work. It did have some degree of battery left in it. Apparently cassette players are pretty durable, I mean Star Lord has had his since the 70s, and he lives in outer space. Lottie just sighed and proceeded to do a sweep of the nightstands.

Unlike how he entered the house, Glen stormed right in, pushing the door out of his way and taking a seat on the bed. He poked at the mattress.

"Is this cotton? Great!" he withdrew his tanto and made a deep incision and took out a handful of the stuffing. He crushed into a big single clump then rolled up his shirt just above his belly button. Fun fact, Glen is the only one in his family who has a legit belly button. Since his doll body is the one he was born in. The side he had been clutching was in fact a bite mark. It wasn't deep and no muscle was torn, but it was still bleeding a thin stream of blood down his torso. Lottie saw this.

"My god, Glen," she jumped on the bed next to him, "What happened?"

"I had a tussle with a rabid stray outside, I had to put him down," Glen said putting the cotton on his wound, "Can you help apply pressure to this? It really feels like shite." Lottie pushed down on it, Glen groaned but eventually felt his body relax and the stinging went away.

"Why didn't you show mom this? You've been hurt." Lottie applied less pressure to let it air out. Glen breathed in relief.

"Because she would tell dad and then I would have to tell him I killed something. And the very last thing I want right now is the 'you're a killer like me, son, speech right now.'" He had reason here. Whenever Chucky told him that he's proud of him it usually means Glen did something he was ashamed of. And he really didn't like to be reminded of it. "Agh...thanks Lottie."

"You guys mind lowering the volume?" Glenda barked, slipping on the tape player headphones, "I got spells to learn and hexs to summon!"

"What's she on about?" Glen asked.

"She found this cassette tape that may have stuff on it," Lottie explained, "I think it's a mixtape though."

"Wait it's not?"

"No!" Glenda slammed her fists on the floor, "It's! Not! A! Fucking! Mixtape!" she pressed the play button and after a brief static she could hear the sound of tape reeling, "And I'll prove it to you!"

Glenda sat there for no more than 30 seconds while Glen and Lottie watched her. At first, Glenda nodded a couple of times then lowered her head into her hands as if in deep thought. She confirmed this state of deep thought by switching over to the thinker pose. After she had heard enough, she pressed the stop button then slowly removed the headphones.

"Well?" Lottie asked.

"It was the mixtape..."

* * *

"Ok so," Ozzy clapped his hands, "If we're gonna write a rock opera about your life, we need to start workshopping right now. What do you got?"

Chucky was lying down on his back with a leg crossed over the other. His other hand would be cushioning his head like the other one, but it was busy holding the cherrying bowl. "Alright, I'm thinking we draw curtain to a backdrop of the South Side. We begin with me getting run down by the fuzz. And not just one guy, I'm talking like an entire unit, there's a couple SWAT people too. And even one guy with an RPG. I want the audience to know that I'm a force to be reckoned with." Ozzy scribbled notes down on a blank page of his sketchbook.

"Nice, nice, that could work."

"I think that this would also be the perfect spot to segway into the first song. Because what the hell would a rock opera be without music."

"Of course, of course," Ozzy nodded, "Any ideas for that?"

"Yes, I have a song in mind. I kind of want to be the song which explains what my deal is. You know, why do I do what I do? I don't want to be the mysterious villain, I got no shit to hide."

"That's good, that's a good idea. The audience can sympathize with you. What would it be called?"

"Um, 'I like killing, blow me'. That's it, that's our first song right there."

"Alright...alright, I guess we could work on that sympathizing part later. We'll put that on hold."

"Also do you think it would be possible if we could extras that I can kill on stage? I kind of want to be singing while I'm killing, be great for dramatic effect. Also because I like a good tune while I'm working."

"I'm...gonna have to get back to you on that. Because I'm not entirely sure that is legal in theater or anywhere else. Meanwhile I got an idea for the next song. It's after you become a doll and meet Arnold."

"Andy, the kid's name was Andy."

"Yes, so this is gonna be the main villain song where you explain your nefarious plot to get that boy's hole."

"Ok, I can fuck with that. I like the concept, but could we back the fuck up for a moment? Because, I could've sworn you said 'boy's hole', but it's really his soul I need to get. You know, so that I can become him."

"Yeah, that's what I said," affirmed Ozzy, "Boy's hole. You're trying to get the boy's hole."

"You're fucking doing it again," pointed Chucky, "You're saying boy's hole."

"No, I'm saying soul. Boy's hole." Chucky pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Ok, say boy's."

"Boy's."

"Now say soul."

"Soul."

"Now say boy's soul."

"Boy's hole."

"Are you fucking with me right now, Ozzy?" Chucky sat up.

Ozzy put his hands up. "I'm just trying to run a writing workshop here, if you don't like my ideas we can scrap them."

"Ozzy," Shauna called from the stairs. Tiffany was with her too. They picked the perfect time to show up as we will soon find out. They stopped halfway down the steps when they got a whiff of the air. Ozzy waved.

"Squad meet up in the basement. You're both just in time. Chucky and I are writing a rock opera about him. We're at that part where he tries to get the boy's hole."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Chucky moved a hand to his forehead. While Shauna snickered, Tiffany put her hands on her hips.

"Oh, so you have time to get high with Ozzy and write a pornographic play but you don't have time for me?" she huffed, "And what's this I'm hearing about a boy's hole?" Oh god.

"Tiff, first off, that is untrue, I always have time for you." Chucky stood up, "Second, it's soul! For fuck's sake! He just says it as hole!" he pointed at Ozzy.

"Your words," Ozzy closed up shop and placed his book back in his bag.

"Bullshit aside," said Chucky, "We didn't find nothing down here. How about upstairs? You find anything?"

"No, nothing," Tiffany shook her head.

"Shit…" Chucky thought, "Where are we going to go from here?"

"Hey guys," Shauna had been staring off since they got down there. She was looking way past them, and whatever she was seeing had her in wide eyed perplexity, "Has that chair always been like that or is this new?"

"What chair?" Ozzy asked.

"That one…" Shauna pointed. A standard chair made from wood. Nothing special about what it was. What it was doing however is quite spectacular really.

It was levitating, just floating in mid air three feet above the ground. It bobbed up and down ever so slightly. The darkness made this easy to see, but there was some kind of aura around it. A thin layer of amber light. They stared at it in awe and question.

"I'm not the only one seeing this, right?" Shauna asked, approaching it.

"The fuck is that?" Chucky looked it over and poked at it,it remained in suspension, "I ain't doing this, I swear."

"Um...I think it might be me…" Ozzy said nervously, he gripped his birthmark wrist. The eye, what it's usually made out to be, also had an aura of amber. The 'pupil' was a little brighter than the outlines around it. It illuminated and dimmed in intervals, "This is new, this is new. I don't know what this is. Chucky?"

"I'm as clueless as you are," said the slasher, "But if I had to guess, I'd say you got yourself some voodoo magic power." Ozzy looked appalled.

"Oh, sorry, maybe I missed the memo where the Acolyte of Damballa gets FUCKING SUPERPOWERS!"

"Hey, you say superpowers I say gamechanger," Chucky folded his arms.

"How did this happen? How am I even doing this?" Ozzy got up and close to the floating chair. He held his wrist to it, expecting some sort of reaction, but the chair just continued to hover.

"I think I remember reading somewhere that this is normal for the Acolyte," said Chucky, "Usually they got to through training for years to reach some sort of voodoo enlightenment. You didn't have that training...right, Ozzy?" Ozzy continued to try to mess around with the chair.

"When I'm baked I feel enlightened," he said, "But I don't mean literally." Chucky smirked.

"Well, I guess Damballa does mean it literally. In other words, Happy Birthday Doctor Strange."

Ozzy suddenly cried out as the chair darted backwards into the darkness. He didn't do anything to warrant this, he just lowered his hand slightly then it took off. Within the darkness, there was the sound of wood shattering. The chair must've hit the wall and broke. At the same time, the glow from the birthmark was beginning to die down, then faded until it was gone.

"Oh...god," he whimpered.

"Oh god is right!" Chucky said, "We got the upper hand now. Man, I can't wait to see Burton's face when we roll up with this once you learn to control it."

"But I don't want to learn how to control it!" cried Ozzy, "I don't even want this! Oh god…" he pulled Shauna to him and crushed her in an embrace, "I'm a monster!"

"Hey, no, you're not," his girlfriend rubbed his back, "You're just-"

"No, I mean he kind of is," Chucky interjected, "But it's ok. Sometime you just forget about it and learn to live with it. Trust me I know." Ozzy clinged to Shauna tighter. There's nothing worst than being sad and high at the same time. Tiffany nudged her husband.

"Asshole." To his credit though, Chucky was trying in the only way he knew how.

Ozzy felt another twinge in his wrist. The birthmark was beginning to act up again. It blinked a couple of times before gradually stabilizing into a constant faint glow. Ozzy grabbed his wrist.

"Shit, what is it doing now?"

* * *

"Video killed the radio star, video killed the ra-god dammit, eighties! Get the fuck out of my head!" Glenda clutched her temples as if fighting an inner-demon.

"Maybe the tape really was magic," Glen, who had just gotten his bleeding to stop, said, "It transferred its soul into you and now you can't get it out."

"Just think of something else," said Lottie as she cleared out the nightstands beside the bed, "The more you think about it the more it's going to burrow itself in your mind. Well...there's nothing up here." She stepped away from the now empty nightstand.

"Did what dad asked," said Glenda, "I'm heading back down."

What happened next is one for the highlight reel. Before Glenda could do so much as leave the room, she suddenly stopped, completely still. It's hard to describe but she felt the air being manipulated around her. She did feel a noticeable difference in the pressure around her. As if the air was tracing her shape from top to bottom. Then, the air began to glow. Faint at first then becoming lighter...amber.

"Woah! Shit!" That was all the reaction time Glenda had. There was no one around except for Glen and Lottie who watched this from where they stood, and she was lifted slowly into the air. And since it was being done by no one, it was levitation. She was just below the ceiling when she stopped and just floated there. Her brother and sister just started up in absolute awe.

"Holy...fucking...shit," Glenda beamed as she rolled around in mid air, like an astronaut who had achieved weightlessness.

"Glenda?" her twin questioned.

"FUCK YES!' she cried, raising her arms, "HA! That tape was magic after all! I have graduated to equilibrium! I don't have to obey the rules of the universe anymore!" she air somersaulted backwards, "Weeeeeee!"

"Uh, Lottie?" Glen asked. Lottie hummed.

"I...got nothing." Lottie wasn't one to care about being right or wrong, it's just that when Glenda's involved, it really helps to be right.

"Ah!" Glenda suddenly shot upwards to the ceiling and thudded against it, plaster fell from the impacted area. Glen covered his mouth, trying to muffle the laughter at his twin's amusing expense. "Ok, I guess maybe this is gonna take some practice. SHI-"

She was suddenly propelled sideways towards the wall and crashed into it. She groaned as she slowly floated away from the hole she had left in the drywall. A snicker from Glen was audible and Lottie's straight face showed signs of breaking down with a half smile.

"Agh, ok, I'm not sure I like this anymore...WOAH FUCK!" She again accelerated to the ceiling and collided with it, same result as before. Glenda was now getting dazed as she floated down to above the bed.

"I want to come down! I don't like this! Help me!" she reached out her arm. Glen stood up and reached for it.

"Right, right. Just calm down I'll help you."

Before he could grasp her hand, Glenda was rocketed away again, this time crashing against the chifferobe. She cried out as her back hit it and then fell to the floor. Whatever spell she was in now worn off. The glowing amber aura that had once surrounded her was gone. Glenda groaned as she pulled herself back up and dusted herself off.

"Whew...story to tell the parentals huh?" the chifferobe suddenly creaked, like the sound of a house 'settling in'. Then it slowly tipped over before breaking into a full on fall. Glenda turned around looked up at it coming at her. She whimpered.

"Oh, fuck me in the ass…"

The chifferobe, obeying the laws of gravity, came down on her. No artsy way to put it. It just fell on her. And if you know how big a chifferobe is then you know how unpleasant it must be for Glenda.

"Shit! It's stuck! Glen! Lottie! Little help!? Please! It's crushing my boobies!" Glenda's voice was muffled, but still audible.

Lottie sprang into action and slipped her hands under the fallen chifferobe and heaved. Glen just stood with his hands behind his back.

"Glen, we should probably be helping her."

"Can't you just let me enjoy this moment?"

* * *

"Make it...fucking stop," Ozzy shook his hand vigorously, the birthmark was still glowing until he grabbed his wrist and covered it. When he removed his hand, there was just the birthmark. The 'eye' shape no longer an amber glow. So the key was to keep it covered it seemed. Ozzy grabbed the char cloth from beside the furnace and tied it around his wrist, directly on the birthmark. He breathed. Shauna had remained by his side.

"Don't worry, Ozzy," she comforted, "We'll figure this out."

"I'm just..I'm just so scared. What if I start hurting people?"

"Fantastic!" applauded Chucky, "That would be the best case scenario."

"Well it isn't for me!" Ozzy cried.

'Riiinnnng!' Riiiinnnng'

Before this could be drawn out anymore, they suddenly heard a phone ring from upstairs. The basement door was open, I mean it couldn't be closed since it was hanging by a hinge so the sound carried over. It was a really defined tone, the ring of the pin hitting against the bell was audible and it was not digitized.

"Ozzy, did you leave your phone upstairs?" Shauna asked him. Ozzy simply held up his phone in response.

"What the hell?" Chucky ascended the stairs, up towards the daylight of the first floor. Tiffany, Ozzy and Shauna followed.

Hanging on the wall just across from the kitchen, was a white 80s rotary phone, though by now it was grey. It wouldn't go to voicemail, since there was no answering machine attached so it would just keep on ringing. What was most peculiar about it was that it was not plugged in. The switchbox was just under it, but the wire which should've been connected was just hanging above it. The plug had been either ripped or degraded off and the wire abruptly ended. Nonetheless, the phone continued to ring.

Chucky raised an eyebrow as he inspected it. He held the wire in his hand, it sparked everytime the phone would ring. The phone was out of his grasp.

"Jesus christ!" Glenda and the other Ray kids came down the stairs, she was still picking wooden splinters out of her air from the chifferobe, "Would someone please answer the god damned phone..woah," she noticed her father holding the disconnected wire, "That's some creepypasta shit there." Chucky released the wire. The phone still continued to ring.

'Riiiiinnnng' Riiinnng'

Ozzy stood in front of it and placed his hand on it. "Should I?"

"Unless you want it to keep ringing," said Chucky. Ozzy shrugged and did just that.

"Uh...hello?"

"Is this the Acolyte of Damballa?" asked a voice on the other line. Female, there was no doubt about it. There was a hint of southern descent, but Ozzy at the time couldn't put his finger on where.

"Don't tell them anything." Chucky said.

"No," Ozzy quickly responded to the caller, "You just, uh, have the wrong number."

"You don't need to be afraid," the woman's voice said, "I can help you...I have the amulet you're interested in, the Soul of Damballa."

"Then...yes?" said Ozzy. Chucky face palmed goddammit.

"I can help you. I have what you want and I can give it to you."

"That's great...but who are you?"

"That's not important, but what is that we want the same thing," the woman on the other line said, "I know what you can do and I like the world, I don't want it to end. And you seem like a reasonable man, I'm sure you don't either. Don't you?"

"Yes."

"Good, then if you're true to your word, you'll meet me tonight. There's a boat house a little way from Navy Pier, look for number six. I'll have the amulet for you."

"Uh...thanks?" this seemed way to convenient for Ozzy.

"Oh, and please come alone. I know there's some people looking for you. You're a wanted man, Osborne Wilkes…"

"Wait! How did you-"

The other line went silent at that moment. Whoever it was hung up. Ozzy exhaled a little to heavily as he put the phone back in it's plate. At the same time, the disconnected wire had stopped sparking.

"Well?" Chucky asked.

"It was...some girl," said Ozzy, "She says she has the amulet we're looking for… she wants to meet me tonight."

"Damn, guess it worked out after all, talk about convenience." Chucky smiled.

"Chucky, she knew who I was. You don't think that she called here because she knew I was here? Can we also talk about this?" he held up the dead phone wire. Chucky went silent for a moment as he thought this over. It did seem a little too perfect. They had just arrived in Chicago, right on the cult's home turf. Now all of a sudden sometime's trying to contact them through what may damn well be supernatural means.

"Yep!" he said after deliberation, "It's a trap." Ozzy sighed.

"So, where do we go from here?"

"I think that's obvious," smirked Chucky. Ozzy and Shauna gapsed.

"No...no, you can't be serious."

"Yep. Clear your schedules. We got a meeting tonight."


End file.
